CaptainCliff on WTD (World Toilet Day)

During the day I am supposed to be a licensed Psychologist and a role model of rationality and emotional stability. At night, however, I revert to being CaptCliff, a Jewish Pirate, a blogger and a 58 year old man with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS).  Watch for the clever segue here: This Saturday is World Toilet Day, a subject near and dear to my heart. The campaign is oriented to promoting the fact that there is a pressing need (no pun intended) for toilets and better sanitation around the globe. Matt Damon has publicly addressed the tissue, er issue, by reminding us that there are more people who own cell phones than people with functioning toilets. Ever since visiting the polished copper lavatories at the Madonna Inn in San Louis Obispo, California as a child, I have been fascinated by toilets and become somewhat of a “connoisseur” of bathrooms that combine the blessed trinity of form, function, and excellent ventilation. How irritating is it to visit a good friend at their nice house, stay at a swanky hotel in Las Vegas, or eat at a fantastic upscale restaurant in New York City or San Francisco, only to find that they lack a simple bathroom fan that would provide adequate noise cancelling effects as well as sufficient air flow/ventilation? Awkward much? I dont mean to talk shit but let’s face it, this is a part of being human that makes us all equal, no matter how much money we have, how fancy and expensive a car we drive, or how good-looking we might be. No matter how big or small our butt is, we all have to park our rear ends on the porcelain throne and do our business. The only difference is that Donald Trump’s throne is gold plated. I still, however,  think he’s an asshole, and that his shit DOES stink.

 

I admit that I may come by my obsession for toiletry by virtue of my Ashkenazi German Jewish heritage. Consider how many Yiddish words there are for poop……..too many to mention here, in fact. Let’s just say that snow is to the Eskimo as “dreck” is to the average anal Jewish person with my family background. Dont believe me? Look up the names of GI doctors and licensed Proctologists in the phone book and count how many Dr. Goldsteins and Dr. Schwartz’s there are. We specialize in Nobel prizes, entertainment, medicine, and…..shit. Even in non academic circles and sans professional accreditation, my people have shown an unusual interest in all things related to bowel function. Passing gas and engaging in “productive” BM’s are considered, along with music, food, culture and literature to be important even ubiquitous avocations of the civilized. In contrast, constipation, irregularity and the absence of normal stool are seen as a sign of weakness, infirmity and pity. “Oy, I havent gone in 3 days!” was perceived in my youth not just as a simple complaint, but as a full fledged lament and solemn prayer for absolution. Such an utterance evoked not only tremendous empathy from others, but also the ultimate Kinnahora (the evil eye/spirit that was so feared it engendered an immediate superstitious behavior like spitting or throwing salt over ones shoulder to ward off doom, or in this case to keep from catching a bad case of constipation). For those of you guys (goys) who cant grasp what I am saying, consider what is worse, chronic constipation or unremitting insomnia, day after day, week after week? To the Jew, both suck big time, but most of us would prefer to stay up all nite watching old reruns of the Honeymooners and the original Twilight Zone then spend a whole day with a full roll of Charmin and nothing to show for it. Lastly, I just returned from Boca, after visiting my cousin Donna at her pied de terre at Century Village, also known as “Cemetery Village” to the locals who are apparently used to the nightly sirens and fire trucks cruising into the complex searching for the latest casualty to old age and old school delicatessen food (Ben’s Deli was excellent). Not only were the bathrooms in the clubhouse meticulous and the toilets so powerful that I nearly felt my hind end sucked into the vortex by the industrial turbines they use for waste disposal, but the elderly residents conversations were rife with references to all things bladder and bowel. On the last day I was fortunate to visit the nearby Morikami Japanese Garden and Museum.  After touring the exquisite gardens we entered the original Yamato house now turned into an art center and architectural display of Japanese culture. While most of the others pondered the superbly tended bonsai trees, the colorful food court, and the Samurai drawings and sculpture, I was mesmerized by the 2011 Toto Japanese high tech toilet demonstration. Not only does that baby wash, dry and sanitize your butt, but it plays music, has temperature controls more sensitive then my Lexus, and can respond to multiple language voice commands. As far as I’m concerned that trumps Trump’s sleazy gilded bath fixtures any day. More on this subject later. Right now I gotta go…..so to speak. CaptCliff has IBS…. Arrgh!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/15/matt-damons-campaign-for-_n_1095021.html

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CaptainCliff on Facebook friends

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by all the genuine support I’ve received on Facebook for my seemingly endless medical problems this year. Like my son Ari’s old Volvo station wagon, my physical body, a usually resilient entity has decided to show its wear and tear in the form of multiple symptoms and warning signs in Stardate 2011. I will not elaborate here, knowing to reserve the gory details for my special interest blogs, “Howls for Bowels” and “The Hypochondriac Chronicles”. I’ve learned several valuable life lessons including the following: 1) doctors will gladly take your money any day of the week until it (the savings account) is all gone 2) the closer you look and the more medical tests you get, the more problems you find….returning one to point number one….and with more anxiety 3)  Doctors are alot like car mechanics, only they have much cleaner hands and fingernails. 4) With apologies to Michael Jackson, Novocaine and Propofol are miracle drugs. I am really glad I wasn’t awake for my colonoscopy procedure, but glad my GI doc was nice enough to send me a complete set of color slides of his journey up my rectum. It looks facinating and only needs an appropriate accompanying musical sound track (Out of Africa? The English Patient? Apocalypse Now?)  5) Speaking of the British (one doctor and two nurses), when they say the phrase “medical issues”, I instinctively want to say, “Gezuntheit!”

 

All in all it’s been a tough year and I just want to say thanks to the people who give a shit. Of course I notice the people who care enough to post a reply tend to be nearer to my age group, which probably means young people are too busy feeling invulnerable to be concerned about esoteric subjects like black tarry stools and strange looking moles with irregular borders. Speaking of irregularity, drinking a gallon of florescent laxative followed by having a tv camera dragged slowly and repeatedly through my intestines might have actually done me some good. Sort of like having the plumber come out and  roto-rooter a clogged toilet after first pouring an industrial sized vat of Drano down the magic bowl. Of course it was about 100 times more expensive and I am still considering wearing Depends to the grocery store……….but at least I feel alot lighter. Has anyone seen my liver and spleen? Last I saw them they were washed away in a tsunami following my pre-op “cleansing”. Lastly, a shout out to the four separate doctors and dentists who blithly prescribed me pain pills and sleeping pills to help with my “discomfort” without  me even asking, both before and after I had anything actually done medically . No wonder we have a drug problem in this country. That did, however, help me feel less pain when I got all the medical bills and saw how little the insurance covered. Now that I think of it, I really believe my car mechanic should be able to prescribe narcotics as well………it would help me with my PTSSD  (Post Repair Traumatic Sticker Shock Disorder ). Arrgh……

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CaptCliff on Objects de Anus…….ewww.

We’ve all heard the expression, “Stick it up your #$$!!!  Telling someone to shove it you-know-where Is not something we usually say or even think to ourselves when we’re feeling happy, calm or loving. Well, maybe except when inserting foreign objects into ones butt is a kind of sexual proclivity in and of itself. As a sex therapist I’ve heard just about everything…at least once, but a recent news story and slideshow brings new meaning to the Toy Story term, “To infinity and beyond!” Apparently two doctors thought it would be interesting to publish a picture book on all the strange things that have gotten “stuck” where the sun doesn’t shine…..including the hospital x-rays to prove it. The “highlight” of this fascinating coffee table reading is a stunning image of somebody’s x-ray showing a full-size Buzz Light Year action figure that has somehow wandered off the Pixar studio set and settled well inside a man’s anal cavity. Stop and think about this for a second. What does this tell you about man’s inherent ingenuity and creativity? Other shots include cassette tapes, cell phones, wedding rings, headless Barbie dolls and assorted glass objects, not to mention an electrical appliance or two. Mankind has always sought to breach new frontiers and go where no Mattel toy has gone before. I realize that many people will conclude only the most negative and see only depravity and perversion in these unusual acts of …….self-exploration. Keep in mind these are all consenting adults who somehow decided to take up a new hobby…call it sexual spelunking. All I know is…..I hope somebody reminds Buzz to wash his hands before eating…..ewww!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/16/book-objects-stuck-in-bodies_n_1095111.html

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CaptCliff on Gay Penguins: Buddy and Pedro’s Forever Love

As a sex therapist I admit when I first read the story about Pedro and Buddy, two male penguins at the Toronto Zoo, I was somewhat cynical and insensitive. The fact that these two black and white guys love one another and had maintained a stable, pair-bonded monogamous relationship through thick and thin, including having cohabited together previously seemed less important then the simple fact that they are African penguins, essentially flightless birds wearing permanent tuxedos. Sure I was moved by descriptions of their unusual loyalty and fidelity, including the fact that they are willing to stand side by side 24/7 while snot nosed Canadian schoolkids and obnoxious American tourists wave at them and make endlessly rude condescending remarks, again not because they are possibly gay but because they walk and talk funny and eat smelly little fish. Human beings seem both fascinated and repelled by short, flightless birds who waddle like….well, penguins. Think of the Penguin (Danny Divito) in Batman…ewww. Our lexicon is filled with pejorative terms and phrases making light of their squat morphology and awkward gait. As a result, they take more than their share of jeers, off hand remarks and catcalls. Now, according to an article, zookeepers in Toronto are planning to split Pedro and Buddy up in an attempt to introduce them to “select female mates” for breeding purposes.  Hmmm, sounds more like conversion therapy to me, under the guise of animal husbandry. Interesting to note, PETA, the Sierra Club, and even many gay rights groups are conspicuously silent and nowhere to be seen or heard on the matter. Zoo authorities are careful to say that afterwards they plan to put Buddy and Pedro back together but an even more thorough reading shows that Buddy at 20 years old isn’t getting any younger, and his still youthful boy toy Pedro, age 10, is heterosexually speaking still a virgin, therefore especially likely to suffer from shock when he realizes what a high maintenance female in estrus is really like….I’m just sayin’ have they really thought this all the way through? There is news that a few Facebook activists are mounting (excuse the pun)  a peaceful protest to keep these rubbery lovers together and appeal to the shared “humanity” of zoo authorities. That’s like expecting Donald Rumsfeld to attend a Occupy Wall Street vigil….or maybe more to the point, trying to get Dick Cheney to ride in a float in the SF Pride Parade, with or without his daughter. Not gonna happen. Of course they say it’s all about preserving the species, which is commendable, but what about preserving our sensitivity to individual choice, dignity and diversity? These guys didn’t ask for all this hoopla and attention. We put them in the public eye and the fake concrete moat for God sakes. Cant we just show some compassion and throw them a bone-fish?

      http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/gay-penguin-couple-buddy-pedro-separated-toronto-zoo-mate-females-article-1.974930

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CaptainCliff on the “Woman bites off man’s testicles” news

The Blogger’s life is not easy. How does one decide exactly which of the literally hundreds of internet stories trumpeted each day online are actually newsworthy enough to comment upon? The task is made even more difficult in this technological age due to the fact that “news” is now a highly subjective phenomena, and not something easily determined just because the mainstream media says so. Recent case in point: a highly touted story titled “Woman Bites Off Man’s Testicles”. Without a doubt the initial headlines provoke immediate reader interest, great sympathy and well, morbid curiosity. After CaptCliff was finished with his own reflexive visceral reaction to the story (insert cartoon depiction of man with mortified look on face grabbing his private parts and lying in exaggerated fetal position to denote horror, fear, and loathing) he was left to ponder the deeper meaning, broader philosophical questions and the conundrum involving such an obviously gruesome event, such as, “WTF!! How did that happen!!?? Was this sexual role-play gone awry, a simple drunken stupor or an intimate “tea bagging” ceremony fueled by MDMA and Crystal Meth??”  Many questions go unanswered, even after reading the article and comparing the various news outlets reporting the breaking story. A good blogger always has a moral compass lying around somewhere to offer perspective and perhaps a tad bit of wisdom or advise to any who might be interested. What advise does CaptCliff, the aging sage and certified sex therapist have to offer his loyal readers and any future subscribers who might accidentally stumble across his morning rants and twisted writings? It is this: 1) never leave your most vulnerable assets exposed to sharp moving objects that have a blood alcohol level over .10.  2) In addition,  do NOT tempt the Gods of luck or misfortune by hanging the family jewels over an angry drunk with a diminished capacity and limited use of her pre-frontal cortex. In fact, this is exactly why evolution, God almighty and even the intelligent design(er) of the universe probably decided  to give us a prefrontal cortex in the first place…to make rational decisions of moral consequence. In other words most of us, if presented in an experimental condition, with a set of hanging hairy balls, otherwise known as testicles in front of us would not choose to bite them off. We would at least think about it first. What would be the advantage to doing so and what might be the consequences entailed retrospectively? Unfortunately, some people never learn and in a strange way are acting as their own evolutionary executioner. In the case mentioned the stupid schmuck got stitched up by the doctors (imagine their coffee table conversation afterwords) and was sent home to recuperate, probably by squatting on a ginormous mound of ice while popping Ibuprofen and Oxycontin like candy corns on Halloween. I can only guess what his female partner is dressing up as this coming weekend…….ie. Vanna the Vasectomy Vampire? Anyhoo….that’s in the news today and now you know even more than ever… to keep your powder dry and your tea bags in the right kind of mug. Arrgghh!!  http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/8849887/Woman-bites-off-boyfriends-testicles.html

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CaptCliff on the Latest News: Gaddafi’s Corpse to Go on World Tour

Widespread interest in the dead body of Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi has lead to a entrepreneurial bidding war for his corpse. Several large publicly held companies and multi-national corporations including Sony, Samsung, Westinghouse, Amana, Coca Cola, and Frigidaire have submitted independent proposals to the transitional Libyan government (NTC) and to the city of Misrata where his body is currently  decomposing in cold storage. Thousand of people have already lined up to see Gaddafi’s bullet riddled body and to take pictures lying next to him on a blood soaked mattress. Seeing a lucrative opportunity, these companies are seeking to take Gaddafi’s cadaver on the road for an extended world tour, possibly involving over a dozen countries and 3 different continents. Disney, In an admittedly controversial but creative business venture has also suggested placing Gaddafi in a permanent Disneyland attraction, tentatively called Mad Dog Muammar’s Desert Adventure. While Islamic law currently forbids the use of the dead for such purposes and has strict guidelines on the swift burial of the deceased according to Muslim tradition, legal maneuvering by entertainment lawyers representing globally recognized corporate sponsors, Gaddafi’s surviving family members and rebels from a coalition of local militia in Misrata are said to be close to hammering out a mutually beneficial agreement. Rumors continue to swirl as recently as today that Gaddafi was unceremoniously buried in a large refrigerator in the desert this morning but a spokesman for Frigidaire claims this was a body double, possibly even Geraldo Rivera.

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