Friday, May 21, 2010

It's a cardigan

Earlier today...

J-Rock: Hey, is that a new shirt?

Andy: No?

J-Rock: I mean... new... vest...?

Andy: You mean cardigan?

J-Rock: Yeah, whatever, I don't know fashion terms.

Later, after describing the event to Mello...

J-Rock: Whatever, I don't wear cardigans!

Andy: But you do realize that vests have no sleeves, right?

J-Rock: I don't know, I don't wear vests!

Andy: Wouldn't it have made more sense to call it like a sweater?

J-Rock: No! I don't wear sweaters either, okay?!

Monday, May 17, 2010

Now seeking membership


Seriously, how do I achieve membership in this club? What if I rock the set of Jersey Shore: Version Yellow Fever?

Despite spamming Jimmy Kimmel's mailbox, I have yet to hear back regarding my membership application. This seems tragically unfair in light of my great ass and piercing brown eyes. As such, I can only make the following conclusion as to why I have not yet been voted in as handsome: white supremacism.

That's right, the only thing holding me back from the hottest in-crowd since the Justice League (apparently writing a mean blog doesn't qualify as a superpower... I beg to differ) is the colour of my skin. Allow me to demonstrate by reviewing HMC's membership roster:
  • Patrick Dempsey (White)
  • Rob Lowe (White)
  • Matthew McConaughey (White)
  • John Krasinski (White)
  • Tony Romo (White)
  • Keith Urban (White)
  • Ethan Hawke (White)
  • Josh Hartnett (White)
  • Sting (White)
  • Ted Danson (White)
  • Matt Damon (White)
  • Ben Affleck (White)
  • Gilles Marini (White... and French)
  • Taye Diggs (Token Black dude)
  • Lenny Kravitz (According to Sandlot, almost White)
At final count, HMC includes thirteen (fifteen if you include Jimmy Kimmel and George Clooney) white folk of varying ages, the token brother, and one half-Jewish/half-Bahamian rock star. God bless America.

If you, like me, are brought to tears by this injustice, please support me by signing my petition to Mr. Jimmy Kimmel that I be forthwith and without delay inducted into the Handsome Men's Club.


...

For those of you who, like me, are not walking encyclopedias of pop culture, the Ben Affleck and Matt Damon bits at the end of the video refer to a recurring Jimmy Kimmel joke and a faux-rivalry between Kimmel and Damon. Damon allegedly stole away with Kimmel's long-time girlfriend Sarah Silverman (and announced it via song), and in retaliation Kimmel boned Damon's brother-from-another-mother Ben Affleck (also announced via song). I guess Ben's wife Jennifer Garner has been rolled into complicity. Click here to watch the musical rivalry unfold!

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Do you know the muffin man?

In 2009, Allan Detsky, an internist at the University of Toronto wrote a (partially facetious) JAMA article on the Art of Pimping. "Pimping" is a legitimate term in the medical vernacular, referring to the staff practice of grilling medical students and trainees with questions, often pushing them to their limit.

Last year, Kon directed me to this article, both for its amusing anecdotes and the marvel of its publication in a recognized peer-reviewed journal. In it, Detsky lays out several strategies for both avoiding or (if you're keen enough) capitalizing on the act of being pimped out by your staff.

One such "pimping protection procedure" is referred to as The Muffin:

This technique is particularly useful for senior residents who are fearful that the attending physician will embarrass them with a question they should be able to answer but cannot. The resident holds a large muffin in the dominant hand with the elbow flexed, and slowly makes motions with the elbow that move the muffin toward and away from the mouth, somewhat like the graphical lines representing the attitudes of focus group members used by television networks while watching the recent presidential debates (ie, closer to the mouth if the resident does not know the answer, further if he or she does). If the resident feels that the teacher will call on him or her to answer a question to which he or she cannot respond, the muffin should be placed into the mouth. Most attendings will not ask residents or students to speak with their mouth full of food. If the attending does, the resident should pretend to choke, thus avoiding all future questions.

Kon clearly had this article in mind whilst entering the following anecdote. In our radiology seminar last week, the teaching resident pointed out a few common X-Ray tricks. She followed up these teaching points with, "Staff love to pimp you with these kinds of cases."

A classmate's hand went up. "Excuse me, what does pimping mean?"

The resident registered surprise that a second-year medical student could be unfamiliar with this term in its non-underworld context, but obliged in explaining. Kon, eager to demonstrate his awareness of medical culture and bubbling with excitement at being able to reference Detsky's entertaining paper turned to those around him and with a grin burst out...

"I'll just take a muffin and stuff it in my mouth!"

I choked back a laugh. I guess Kon had not seen Betty White's muffin skit on her recent hosting of Saturday Night Live (to which I was directed by Sandlot), else he would have been aware that the word "muffin" can also be used to connote "vagina." Perhaps this is not surprising from the fellow who during a game of charades once confused the term "rising sun" as meaning "morning wood". I'm sure the Japanese would not be pleased if they suddenly became known as the "Land of the Morning Erection". We can only presume that Kon in that case had been confused with the less-popular term "morning glory" (which then must generate a small chortle at Morning Glory brand stationary).

In any case, Kon's double entendre went unnoticed by the rest of the seminar group, while he himself continued unaware that he was such a cunning linguist.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Sheathe thy weapons

I don't know about you guys, but sometimes I feel held hostage by the flashing light on my mobile - trying to focus on other things but constantly looking down to check for the reassuring pulsation of a cherished reply.

Sometimes the safest thing to do is to disassemble thy weapon.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

I'm a preclerk


Stewie petitioned me to compose some sort of rhyme for our class newspaper. I, being the fool, agreed and spent all afternoon teasing lyrics out of this migrainous head of mine. In fact, I think it might be a bit too sarcastic for such a serious publication, but whether or not it ever sees print, I've done my part. Here it is for you:

To the tune of Denis Leary's I'm an Asshole:

Folks, I’d like to sing you a song about the professional dream
About me, about you
About the way our scholastic hearts beat way down in the bottom of our chests
About that special feeling we get in the apex of our hearts
Maybe below the apex
Maybe in the costo-phrenic area,
Maybe in the ego, maybe in the superego
Maybe even in the perineum, we don’t know


I’m just a regular bloke, with a CMA sack
I’m your average vain and OCD quack
I like singing, fundraising, and advocacy
I’ve got my research in journals to pad my CV
My ophthalmoscope, my pocket eye chart
My big Queen’s Square hammer and my lab coat look smart

But sometimes that just ain’t enough to get a chum like me residency
(Oh no, no way, uh uh)
No I gotta go out there and look smart at someone else’s expense
(Whoa yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah)
I can’t remember any lessons from class
When I’m pimped out I cry “Lupus!” to pass

I’m a preclerk (He’s a preclerk)
I’m a preclerk (He’s a preclerk, such a preclerk)

Flash my hospital card when I go to the pub
I shimmy up and drop the M-bomb saying, “How about some love?”

I’m a preclerk (He’s a preclerk)
I’m a preclerk (He’s the world’s finest preclerk)

I act real keen in PBL cases
While PBL tutors make delighted faces

I’m a preclerk (He’s a preclerk)
I’m a preclerk (He’s a sweet-talking preclerk)

Maybe I shouldn’t be singing this song
Schmoozing, butt-kissing and carrying on
Maybe they’re right when they tell me I’m wrong
Nah

I’m a preclerk (He’s a preclerk)
I’m a preclerk (He’s the world’s slyest preclerk)

You know what I’m going to do?
I’m going to join a student interest group in my specialty
Be the president, with lots of speakers
All residency committee members
And makes sure they’d all want to go camping with me (yeah)
And I’m going to stare down all the other students
If they’re interested in my specialty
Sucking down Iced Caps and donuts from Tim Horton’s
In large-size Roll Up the Rim cups
And when I’m done infusing my blood with caffeine
I’m going to take my pulse to practice for ASCM
And I’ll note the palpitations I’m having about clerkship
Because I can’t remember a gosh-darn thing from lecture
You know why? Because I crammed, that’s why
2 words: Grey’s freaking Anatomy, okay?
Taylor, Latta, Schreiber – they all told me to study ahead
They can take away my TV have a big study party
Right in the middle of Toronto General Med Ed
And it won’t make a lick of difference
Because I’m still going to cram, okay?
Preston Burke’s not dead, he just got kicked off the show for homophobia
But that’s okay because the new cardiothoracic surgeon is super hot
You know how?
Take Pamela Anderson in a labcoat and multiply her IQ by 15 million times
That’s how hot the new surgeon is!
I’m going to learn to cut and suture
And perform appendectomies, Whipples, IL-2 therapy,
And trach someone with a pen…


(Hey! You know, you really are a preclerk!)
Why don’t you just shut up and sing the song, pal?
I’m a preclerk (He’s a preclerk)
I’m a preclerk (He’s the world’s finest preclerk)

P-R-E-C-L-E-R-K
Everybody!
P-R-E-C-L-E-R-K

I’m a preclerk and I’m proud of it