Gallbladder Secession From the Union

I’m losing another vestigial structure today.

Little known fact in the history of Speaker7, but a week before my tonsillectomy I had a HIDA scan. I was crammed into a tube, filled with helium and then twisted into a horse balloon for a child’s birthday party. The scan showed not only a propensity for breakdancing, but a nonfunctioning gallbladder.

For awhile, I had been experiencing what I’ve medically termed as “shitkickers”–meaning I felt the shit was being kicked out of me. I would sit up, and it was as if the skin under my ribcage was going to rip apart. I figured I’d either had hernia or was about to give birth to an alien baby à la John Hurt.

Nope. It was just my gallbladder yearning to be free. I began to grow suspicious of a romantic relationship between my tonsils and my gallbladder.

I postponed the surgery because it’s really out of style to have a breathing tube inserted twice in a season (source: “Who Wore the Breathing Tube Better?” US Weekly).

But the shitkickery continued. I remember trying on shoes when the onset of an attack started, and hoped the shoppers would politely ignore me as I crouched and gasped on the floor for a few minutes. I explained I was a foot fetishist.

This past week, it became even more apparent that we could no longer live together and one of us had to move out. Every morsel of food became the equivalent of eating a Thanksgiving-style banquet of Big Macs encased in Doritos taco shells covered in KFC grease dribblings. My abdomen turned into its own flotation device, and I told my gallbladder to find new living quarters.

So yay! Another surgery. I can’t wait to see what will go next. I’m banking on the brain.

As to be expected, Hugo is thrilled.

Oh–I’ll have a new post up at The Official How To Blog tomorrow about the Game of Thrones. I’m figuring I will be too hopped up on pain medication to promote it. 

Google Search “What is Coprophagia?”

On Thursday, Google will plant a chip in your brain that will allow advertisers to feed Doritos’ commercials directly into your cerebral cortex.

That sentence might not be entirely accurate, but I know Google is changing something about its privacy policy because it sent me an email, which I didn’t read because I was too distracted by an ad in the email for the Dorito shell at Taco Bell. It looked really healthy and really orange.

The French are all like “Sacre bleu” about this. Why? I don’t know because I only the read headline of the article and then clicked on an ad for StirChef™ Hands-free Saucepan Stirrer. Do you realize you can have your hands-free stirrer stir your Dorito casserole while you eat a Dorito taco?

Progress.

Okay so basically, Google will be able to consolidate all of your searches in various platforms like youtube, gmail and the google search engine into one giant chocolate chip cookie that will be fed lovingly to advertisers. “In short, we can treat you as a single user across all our products,” coos Google.

So expect your ads to get really specific. And if you are someone like me, who looks up a lot of weird sh*t because you write a blog and/or are a giant weirdo, expect to see this:

Coprophagia is the eating of feces. I write a lot about turds. See here and here. Here. I am not a coprohagiast, but I go to Google quite frequently and type thing like: “turd face” “show me turds” “write my blog about turds, please.”

Or this ad:

I look up a lot about Donald Trump. I look up a lot about adult baby syndrome. How are they connected? Only Google knows.

I also like to search about horrendous people featured in Lifetime movies or on Dateline NBC. I don’t possess the patience to sit through these programs in their entirety. One might say I have the patience of an adult baby. Who likes steaks. And is possibly into coprophagia. Like on Sunday, I caught the tale end of Drew Peterson:Untouchable on Lifetime, and it was….um….well, it was this:

Rob Lowe, as Drew Peterson, does a slo-mo strip tease for police officers, and it ends. Which seemed odd. And abrupt. I didn’t quite understand how this could be the ending. It would be like suddenly ending this blog post with some weird picture. So I had to look up “Drew Peterson” in Google and now I will get this ad: