It Works For Dinosaurs

[bloodyrosemccoy]

National Dance Day
National Hairball Awareness Day
National Teach Children to Save Day
Birthday - Dale Earnhardt (racer)
Anniversary - Zipper Patent

 

I would hereby like to volunteer myself for medical research.

 

Specifically, I want a second brain inserted in my lower abdomen.

 

Because frankly, as it is my upper and lower half are having communication issues here. I am fine on the upper half—can play video games pretty well, juggling is coming along fine, etc.. But today, in tap dance, I realized that next to everyone else, I am lumbering around like Penn Jillette trying to dance the quick-step.*  I can’t even count the number of times I’ve had the following conversation with my feet:

AMELIA: All right, dudes! Dance time! Let’s do a shim-sham.

FEET: WHAT? WHAT?!  WE CAN’T HEAR YOU.

AMELIA: It’s easy, I’ve got all the steps figured in my head.

FEET: THIS IS NOT WALKING. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!

AMELIA: We are in a dance class. Now dance!

FEET: CLASS, YOU SAY? IS THIS TAE KWON DO? SHOULD WE DO ENORMOUS KICKS?

AMELIA: No, dance! We are working on fiddly steps, not giant boot-to-the-head action. But it’s still fun! We can make noise!

FEET: WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND.

 

Also, maybe if I have a brain closer to my bladder, it would not go all amnesiac on me, dammit.

 

BLADDER: We must go.

AMELIA: What? Are you joking?  We just went!

BLADDER: Lies!

AMELIA: Look, I am at this moment exiting the bathroom.  There is no way you have filled in the last 13 seconds.

BLADDER: I do not remember this alleged bathroom incident. We must go.

AMELIA: Oh, for—I am not going.

BLADDER: *initiates a harassment campaign Simon’s Cat would be proud of*

AMELIA: Fine!

BLADDER: … Oh, look at that, we must have already gone. Just kidding!

AMELIA: I hate you.

 

With any luck, a brain closer down to it would be able to convince this forgetful organ to start remembering again, dammit.

 

I have settled on the Bladder With Amnesia model, pending further investigation. I am fully aware that there are many other possible reasons for this problem, including:

-too much tea

-The Natural Rhythms Of The Body, in the Waxing Even More Neurotic stage

-UTI

-marauding surgeons broke into my apartment late one night and stole my organs, replacing them with those of a 65-year-old

-CANCER

Even if the second problem doesn't get solved by the brain in my lower end, I still want it.  It would have many other uses, too, after all.  Maybe it would have more insight into some of my analytical projects. Or maybe it could complement my other brain, being good at spatial navigation and math and all the things the one I’ve got right now isn’t.  I could get more things done by sleeping one at a time while the other took control. Maybe it would turn me into a super-genius.

 

On the other hand, it might make it harder to make decisions if I’m literally of two minds about everything.  And what if this second brain gets a chemical problem? I don’t want two depressed brains on my hands.

 

All right, this warrants further investigation. But at this point, the volunteer offer still stands. 


*With luck, I'll be able to juggle like him in the near future.

Comments

[agenttrojie.livejournal.com]

your bladder and mine are obviously friends. Mine likes to ambush me, as in;

Trojie; La la, life is wonderful, I'm calm and serene-
Bladder; GO TO THE BATHROOM NOW OR BY GODS I SHALL EXPLODE AND GIVE YOU PERITONITIS!
Troije; Yikes! *runs to bathroom*
Bladder; Mwahahaha.