What I'd really like to bitch about, I can't because it involves a lawsuit. Yesterday, I spent all day giving a videotaped deposition. I came home frazzled. My mind was racing and I felt in need of some TLC. Oh yeah! That's right! She's in friggin' time out, so TLC wasn't going to happen. She has this notion that she needed to take a break from men because she has impaired judgment. Isn't that fucking special? She might as well just wear a chastity belt. In the meantime, tiny twattlers have moved in and they have let the old love canal get overgrown with cobwebs and who knows what else is in there. The jolly Green Giant could have moved in and she'd never know! From the valley of the jolly... Ho! Ho! Ho! Green Giant! Hear the echo???

I really have to say women are dumb bitches sometimes! I mean we can be really S-T-U-P-I-D at times!!! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! From a man's perspective, I was told at an early age "I was sitting on a goldmine" and what did I do? I ran with every loser within a 50 mile radius. A real freak magnet here! Yeah, I was sitting on a goldmine alright! I should have hired myself out to a circus. She walks! She talks! She crawls on her belly like a reptile freak! Oh shit! Wait a minute I think I'm supposed to be bitching about someone or something else other than myself! Pardon me while I regroup and pull myself together.

[small break to think]

This is my blog and I am the Captain. The Captain would like to introduce you to Tennille (or Jnuts as I have always called him). I'd like to take you back several years when I first knew Jock was "the chosen one". (Jnuts, when did we start on MSN Spaces? Didn't it first open its pearly gates in late 2004?) Anyway, here was this guy blogging about his prostate. I knew then I had died and gone straight to blogging heaven.

Here is Jock's rant titled "Footloose and Diaper Free" :

So, it wasn't as bad as I anticipated. There was no rectal exam. This was merely a PSA blood test. If my bloodwork comes back elevated, I will worry about the old finger bang at that time. Which is fine, as my 'roids have been acting up lately and the only way someone is going to shove anything up my ass is after they give me a bottle of tequila and they are in possession of a jackhammer.

When asked if I wanted the rectal in addition to the PSA, I politely declined by saying, "only if you buy me dinner and call me daddy." My offer was refused. I DID get a Tootsie Pop and a blue ribbon enameled pin signifying "Prostate Awareness." I was already aware I had a prostate, but I took the pin anyway.

How could I leave that alone? I couldn't! I tried! But the force was strong within him! I answered the call of the wild with my own little twist titled "A Visit To Dr. Pain's Office" but included his delightful and very insightful words on my blog as a lead in for what I wanted to say:

I'd like to take this opportunity and turn a simple medical diagnostic test into a Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus moment. I believe every man I've ever known who has had a prostate exam has described the doctor as having fingers the size of tree limbs and the personality of Marquis de Sade. It's not difficult to picture the doctor coming into the examining room, snapping those latex gloves and telling the patient that the procedure may be a little uncomfortable. Uncomfortable? How about humiliating? And the poor fool isn't even being offered dinner and a movie to go along with it!

I know medical staff do their best to preserve a person's dignity, but how dignifying can a prostate exam be if you're a male or a Pap smear and mammogram be if you're a female? The majority of people reserve access to the vajayjay, the twins and the Incredible Hulk exclusively for their significant other. Now, here we are with an almost total stranger and we're PAYING them to prod and poke us. Nope, we aren’t in some sleazy motel with a prostitute! We're in an examining room with our doctor!

From a woman's perspective, I'd have to say Pap smears and mammograms are most likely the equivalent to the prostate exam. Guys, you're lucky because prostate exams aren't routinely done until a man reaches middle age. Ladies have to endure the joy of Pap smears and pelvic exams annually from the time they first become sexually active. Mammograms aren't started until later, but are routinely done at an earlier age than when prostate exams are started.

For the men who have never had their significant other complain about the whole female going to the gynecologist ordeal, let me fill you in. We not only get the Pap smear and pelvic exam, but we get a rectal exam also. We also have a breast exam and then are sent to have a mammogram depending on what age we are. What can I really say about having a complete stranger stuff my breasts into a cold metal vice and flattening them to the width of a pancake except, "oh boy! Where can I get one of those gadgets to have at home?" (Okay ladies...are you laughing with me?)

I guess the most difficult part of the whole exam experience is the waiting for the results part. Yep! We feel great! We didn't notice any lumps or any other abnormalities, but you never know! You always hear horror stories about someone who feels great one minute and then finds out they have cancer the next. I'm not a fretter and can only imagine what the wait for test results must be like for someone who worries about every little thing in life. They must drive themselves and everyone around them crazy in that period of time. How does anyone reassure or console someone like that?

I have a suggestion for both genders. Guys, do something special for your lady to let her know you're there with her in spirit during this process. It doesn't take much to let someone know you care about them. A nice dinner out? A romantic getaway for both of you? Ladies, the same goes for you. Our guys need support, too (remember they're whiners!). How about tickets to a ballgame, taking him to a movie he wants to see (and you pay for it or it doesn't count) or buying something slinky from Victoria's Secret to wear for him? Just remember it's the thought that counts and doing something small may mean the world to the person you love. Actions always speak louder than words and here's an excellent opportunity to say 'I love you" very loudly!

So there you have it except for the comment our beloved Jock left for me as a response to what I had written:

Leave it to you to take my insipid tale about Nurse Ratched and turn it into something extremely worthwhile. I loved it and agree, except for one thing. Men are whiners? Oh, you must die! I'd come over there and slap you, but my back is killing me because I had to do dishes today. Damn, the pain is so intense from standing there it feels like I'm getting ready to give birth! Oh, and my hands are now all pruny and I think I'm coming down with the flu, because I've been sneezing and have a headache. Although, the headache could be from standing over the sink while steam rising from the water made me dizzy and disoriented. Mommy! I need to take a nap.

Gratitude statement: What can anyone say about or to someone like Jock, but a simple "thank you"?

All gibberish within ©2004-2010 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.


  1. This whole 3-day thing has me feeling like I'm at Woodstock.

  2. well, I can't top your opening for the bitchfest.

    "chosen one?" as in I'm chosen to go in first into the collapsed mine-shaft...and by the way, canary is dead?

  3. Oh, come on! I know you'll come up with something to out shine me and if not, there's always tomorrow. Mine was more a history lesson than anything else (bitch about me if you must)

    So are we speaking metaphorically about sending you into the "mine-shaft" and here I thought the Jolly Green Giant has crawled in there and alas, it was just a small tweetie bird! See what age and nonuse will do to the mine-shaft?

    Now, get busy writing! Stop that damn whining and just let it rip!

  4. This is priceless Karen. I love that you gave the female perspective. I hate going for tests and exams. Always humiliating.

    Nice talking to you today, sorry the phone acted up. Maybe in June I can get a new one. Lots of expenses until then.

  5. you know, I haven't had my toni tennille/dorothy hamill bob for ages.

    i'd start the bitchfest immediately, but yesterday my dad was found driving on the wrong side of a busy street in a state of confusion. luckily no one was hurt, but he is now in the hospital having all kinds of tests. kind of deflates my bitch balloon for the moment.

    although...hospital procedure and cunty nurses may be a topic to visit in a few days.

  6. and...it i find out you were at woodstock...even if you were way underage...i may have to bitch about that. i had friends who were going and I was asked, but I decided to travel up Pacific Coast Highway in a kind of Jack Kerouac/On The Road, solo last masturbatory trip before marriage.

    Always regretted that decision.

  7. JoAnn, I'm glad you called and hopefully, next time "static" won't be an issue. Thanks for commenting on the Bitchfest (I knew you wouldn't want to miss it).

    Jnuts, I'm sorry to hear about your father. Don't worry about this nonsense...go take care of him. Our Bitchfest can resume anytime and can be played by any rules. Afterall, we are the Captain and Tennille. Nurses always make excellent Bitchfest topics.

    Not only did I make Woodstock, but I made the album cover as well. If I was going to be rebellious, I wanted something to show for it. Now, put that in your pipe and smoke it! I'm so sorry you led such a sheltered life, but you know they have a Woodstock museum you could go visit. Make sure to wear flowers in your hair and patched bell-bottoms!

  8. But leave your Toni Tennille bob at home! Some things are better left in the closet!

  9. Hey Karen,

    If you can do me a favor and read today's entry on my blog sometime soon. Your entry just before this one prompted it.

    Jo Ann

  10. JoAnn, I'm glad I can inspire someone! I'll go read it right now.