Sparks Ignites

  I ran into my friend Rose, the other day, and asked how she’d been. She said she was stressed because her mom was ill. I politely inquired about her condition like I was CNN’s Sanjay Gupta. She’d been diagnosed with moleopothy— a sudden eruption of hairy moles on her face. After my initial gasp of horror and an urge to make a werewolf reference, I asked if the doctor prescribed Molezympica. She said “yes” and immediately I went into my fair balance spiel.    I told her to monitor for side effects and discontinue use if her mom has sudden onset unibrow, drooping nipples, howling at the full moon, undressing by fire hydrants, a desire to eat meals in the basement or if one of her moles starts talking.    I inquired if her mom had any pets? The most adverse reaction is extreme and deadly flatulence fatal to pets under 30 pounds. Rose looked concerned and said  Mr. Sniffles, a chihuahua, had been staggering around the house.   “How do you know all this drug information?” she asked.   “TV

I haven’t been a hospital patient since I was in grade school. I remember the nurses dressed in white uniforms with pillbox hats looking like Jackie Kennedy’s bridesmaids. They were visions of purity, supplying drugs and sponge baths. Immaculate angels in white— the appropriate color to wear when blood and body fluids are only a squirt away.   IV Bottles, syringes and thermometers were made of glass. When the Good Humor person of medicine came bearing a cylinder filled with toxic mercury, you had to make sure you didn’t bite down. Also, pray they didn’t tell you to roll on your side. “No sneaking in the back door. That’s a no glass insertion zone, Nurse Ratched!”   Surgical procedures, medical technology and patient care has progressed far from what I remembered as a six-year-old. Hospital stays are as brief as possible. They throw you out of bed hours after surgery. When I had my appendix taking out, I was in-patient until my stitches could be removed. I was there so long I had my add

  Washington, D.C. -  Congressman, George Santos, stunned reporters this morning at a press conference, held at the Motel 6 Washington, DC - Convention Center, when he admitted to lying to the country and his constituents in the 3 rd  District of New York.    Santos entered the room wearing white pants and a white bed sheet, wrapped around his torso. It was held together with a brown belt and he carried a florescent light tube. “I’ve had to make up many stories to protect this country and the entire world.” He told a room packed with news correspondents.   “At last, I can reveal the truth. My real name is George Lucas Skytos. I’m a Jedish Knight sent here from another galaxy, far, far away. I’m here to save this planet,” Santos said.    He explained that he was told to create a false identity by his father, the Supreme Leader of the Empire— Darth Donald.    “I’ve posed incognito as a graduate of Baruch College and NYU, a star volleyball player, a Wall Street guru, a Jewish/Catholic gay