Parts Iz Parts

"Rotted, fetid, necrotic, gangrenous, pustules of pus and other equally lovely words were the choices of my doctor to describe my post operative gall bladder. I wasn't awake at the time but I'm told it had to be shot with a silver bullet and a stake driven through its heart before it was safe to discard. Well no wonder I was able to spin my head around three sixty and toss up guacamole on command. Of course I wasn't exactly expecting a rosy description from the doc because gall does, after all, mean bile and bile doesn't conjure hearts and flowers to most people, but necrotic? Gangrenous? And this thing was inside of me? Now I know how Siguorney Weaver felt in Alien III. And, as if this weren't enough to give one pause, the doc adds that I had a "catastrophic infection." I don't know about you but that sounds bad to me.

But...not to worry. I'm better now. Well sure I can still set fire to things with my eyes and priests come by every day to throw holy water at me and mumble shit in Latin, but apart from that I'm fine. Who needs a gallbladder anyway and what other body parts can I get rid of before they go over to the dark side? The liver? Nooo, my liver is my friend and needed to share the glasses of red wine I am forced to drink for my health. Heart? I would miss all those warm and teary moments I have when the team I'm rooting for does something good. Oh yeah, and loving people too. Lungs? Breathing is good. I like breathing. What else is there? Intestines, upper and lower but apparently no middle. Too bad, I'd get rid of the middle for sure. And there is the brain, which I'm told we only use a small percentage of to begin with. I'd take that out in a second, but what do you fill the hole with? G.W. Bush might have the answer there, but with no brain at all he's only able to repeat rote memory phrases like "stay the course" and "I'm an excellent driver, an excellent driver" so he's unable to tell us. Oh well, I guess I'll just go with the parts I've got.