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Patient log #053218963

New patient Paul Ryan was admitted this morning by LAPD. Mr. Ryan collapsed and soiled himself in the womens changing room of a TJ Maxx department store this morning. He was trying on ladies bathing suits. The damage to the changing room was so intense that a special wand was needed to clean the area. The bathing suits were marked as a biohazard and buried in the desert as a safety precaution. We are testing the patient extensively to determine the addictive element that led to this bizarre incident.

It seems Mr. Ryan regularly eats 8-12 pepperoni pizza flavored Hot Pockets every day – a potentially toxic amount. We tried telling him he can get a real pepperoni pizza for a dollar more – it’s literally right next to the Hot Pockets at the supermarket – but he refuses. This addiction to Hot Pockets has given the patient an irregular heartbeat and traumatic levels of diarrhea. Police records show Mr. Ryan was asked to leave a public swimming pool last week after a similar Hot Pocket related incident occurred. The pool had to be drained, and it took nearly a gallon of tomato juice to remove the odor from the children. We will continue to work with the patient to remove this dependency.

Only science can make me a tolerable person

Why can’t I drive drunk? It’s 2014. We have the technology to allow this. All the components are readily available. We have car ignitions that only work after the driver submits to a breathalyzer. We have the Xbox Kinect, which can detect a person’s heartbeat and a dozen other things using only a camera. Google makes self-driving cars that have been proven to work. So why are we unable to invent a car that can detect how drunk I am and self-drive if I’m over the legal limit?

I shouldn’t even have to ask about this. Someone should be working on it. The only thing we seem to be using this technology for is crappy Xbox games where you make characters wave their hands around. I don’t have a great desire to wave other people’s hands around. If members of society could choose between that or avoiding a $1,000 DUI, I think we’d all choose the latter. We can wave our own hands around for free. In fact, some of us are doing it right now.

Duluthians excited to win contest in magazine they don’t read

Outside Magazine, the nation’s fortieth most popular magazine about going outside, held its annual contest for the best outdoor city in America last week. Duluth, Minnesota won first place, narrowly defeating Provo, Utah, a town mainly known for socially awkward Mormons and crippling boredom.

Duluth bested a total of 63 other cities, most of which didn’t realize they were nominated.

Outside Magazine?” said Fred Tarkenton of Boulder, Colorado. “That’s not a real thing, is it? Are you sure you don’t mean Outdoors Magazine? That sounds more like a real publication.”

Ironically, the winner of the contest each year is usually whichever town has the most homebound residents who prefer voting in internet polls to actually going outside. However, since Provo is almost exclusively populated by Mormons who believe coffee is too technologically advanced for society, most of them don’t even own a computer.

“Well, Bill has one of them fancy ‘puters,” said Milton Davis, a local high school janitor who is also Provo’s mayor. “But he’s a child pornographer, so he needs one.”

Thoughts I’ve had while really, really high

- My god! Look at how wrinkled my fingers are at the joints. Is this normal? The next time I’m around people my own age, I need to make sure to compare.

- The dog would look really cool if I dyed him purple.

- I wonder if Emma Stone dates losers. No, wait! I wonder if Eva Green does. If not, I wonder if they date pretend winners? Because I can do that.

- Someone should invent McDonald’s food that I can eat in my house.

- Do people know I’m high? Can they tell? My eyes look normal in the mirror, but do they really look normal? Can they smell it on me? I can’t smell anything, but how do I know that other people can’t smell anything? Is there a product? Is there some sort of weed detector detector? Is everyone staring at me? Should I run?

Remember to celebrate your mom this weekend

Mother’s Day is this weekend. You should get her something nice, like a crisp $50 bill. Think of what she could do with that kind of money. She could get one of the windshield wipers on her car fixed at the dealership. She could buy three grams of chocolope or purple diesel from the long-haired gentleman down the street. She could put the whole bill down the pants of some nice young man down at the docks.

Maybe I’ll get something nice for your mom. Have you seen The Graduate?

All mom jokes aside, you should definitely get something for your mom this weekend. It’s Mother’s Day, after all, and your head is huge. She had to work to get you out. That was probably eight months of pilates afterward. The woman earned it. Reward her for the troubles you caused.