TLPTPW - The I just won edition

LOL. Don't get me started ..... ooops you have :-)))

I don't find it as annoying as I used to. I pretty well embrace it as yet another opportunity to accurately diagnose & treat : that's why they are attending and that is what I am paid to do. The usual person who does this is typically psychologically frail, socially inept and clearly has much time on their hands for research and introspection. That of itself is a clinical data point. I just absorb the symptoms they list, inquire correctly and proceed with physical examination, appropriate special tests etc in the traditional way. Often they are fellow nerds who have taken a different path in life - the paranoic shut-in could have been me - and in any case they or Dr Google might be right ( however vanishingly small the chance ). Even a randomly thrown dart may hit triple twenty. Plus I might trip over something quite unanticipated by either of us merely by being rigorous/thorough .....

..... it's a general modern illness though and goes well beyond medicine. This week I've had a string of proper tradesmen in my house and discovered ( beneath plaster/carpet/etc ) how DIY the last owner was. So now I know where the $5K buffer in the kitchen renovation budget is going. I expected surprises. Nonetheless, upon talking with them, the tradies reveal a "DIY cleverness" bane much like Dr Google for me. There's always some YouTwitFace moron who 'knows' something, or the guy at the help desk of the local SupaMegaSpazmo Hardware Barn with really good ideas. And it is so simple, why don't I 'just' do that ? I've attended the half-hour 'How To Use a Power Saw' tutorial only last Saturday, and I'm working off the diagram on page 7 of Nuclear Bunkers For Dummies .....

...... before the internet we used to have the 'bloke in the pub'. DownUnda he would typically be called Bazza, Norm, Clancy Of The Overflow or somesuch. Now Bazza was always in the pub. At least everytime you went he was always there. Same bar stool, a pot of Carlton Lager ( his favorite ) in hand. His blood alcohol was never below 0.10 and he 'knew' everything. But only in the sense of a drunken parrot repeating what he heard. He had a strange hole in his knowledge though : the next winner of race four at Sandown. He had no true understanding of physical symptoms as he never had very many, his body was suppressed by the alcohol from telling his brain any of it's happenings. And the brain wasn't listening. But he was believed by others. Alas nowadays, next to Dr Google, he is merely a silly brain-dead pisspot without a smartphone. How the mighty have fallen ....

...... but the real danger are the lurking grandmothers. There are an immense number of ladies who have reached the age of 86, by luck largely, and despite having ****ed up the first 85 years of their life are still endowed with social worship because of their assumed 'wisdom'. They don't bother me so much : I give them the 1000 yard stare to let them know that I know they are a fraud and 'go ahead, make my day'. So they usually select a 17 year old grand-daughter who has just had a child and berate them with 'helpful advice' about infant care. This is normally a thinly disguised barb that Jack had nicked off to Queensland just after the positive pregnancy test, and why did you trust him you silly young thing ? Which is exactly what happened to her in 1946, only it was Bob and Western Australia.

Cheers, Mike

Please, kindly come this way :

Just send me $150 per copy :

..... this is NOT a scam. A bargain. Honest.

Cheers, Mike.

This is what happens when I'm encouraged. :-)