I’ve never really had a specific topic to blog about, until I looked back and realized I’ve had a somewhat ongoing theme of making fun of myself. Just do a search on this site for “loser” and you’ll see what I mean. (Yes, I have nothing better to do.) So to be on topic, here are 6 reasons why I might be a mutant.
My right thumb is fatter than my left thumb
I have Amblyopia (lazy eye)
When I was sized for my wedding ring, they had to make a special order because they don’t usually have mens sizes that small
I recently cut my hair; all of it. I’ve been asked countless times why. I’m really not so sure why. The only “why” I know is why I grew my hair long to begin with. I was reminded of this as my hair began to grow back. As you can see from this detailed (and frighteningly accurate) diagram, there are two reasons why I miss my longer hair.
[Reason 1]: Sideways ‘fro; otherwise known as “bozo” hair. This would be a very good explanation as to why I was never seen without a hat.
[Reason 2]: I needed something to cover my face. I always used to wonder if my face was crooked, or if it was just my glasses. People always reassured me it was my glasses. I must have had dozens of pairs of glasses, and strangely they were all crooked. Well now that I’m liberated from glasses, I know they were lying.
This is my own estimated simulation of what I could see before and after LASIK eye surgery. (In this context, simulation basically means that it’s a photoshop blur turned up as far as it could go.) Overall, the surgery was a big success and I would do it over again any day. On the other hand, five separate 200 mile car trips for a surgery that itself only lasted 10 minutes is a little ironic. It’s like building a Rube Goldberg machine for clipping your toenails. And I’m still trying to figure out how a 0.1 oz container of 99.97% water is worth $70 at a pharmacy. But regardless, after a scratched cornea, a rough edge of a cornea flap, 48 eye drops per day, and a quarter million dollars worth of gas, things are looking really good.
Putting in my contact lenses this morning, I was forced to wonder why they make contact lenses clear. I was forced by the fact that I dropped one of them and couldn’t find it. How can they expect people to see a transparent contact lens after they take it out? I mean, seriously, people wear contacts for a reason. (They can’t see without them.) Why not make them blaze orange or something. And definitely not transparent. Those things are expensive, and it hurts to lose one. I even cried, but I’m not sure if it was because I couldn’t find it, or if it was from shoving my finger into my eye. I did find it, by the way. It was stuck to my face.
I’m squinting as I’m writing this, so sorry if I make a typo. The ironic thing though, is not that I’m not wearing glasses, but that I’m actually wearing contacts, and new ones at that. Who knows, maybe I don’t know my alphabet that well so I screwed up the eye doctor. But the dumb thing is that I don’t even know if I have them in the correct eye. The containers they were in didn’t say which one was left and which one was right. And I don’t know what all the numbers mean, but I assumed that the one with the most correction would be for the eye that’s the most blind. My eyes are so bad anyway, I don’t see why they don’t just call me legally blind and get it over with. Maybe because they don’t want to lose me as a customer?
Well I’m not just here to complain about my poor vision. I actually wanted to tell about my newest invention. You see, when people can’t see that well they can get around just fine. They can hang out with friends and have fun. They can run and jump and do most things…until they have to read something. It’s the text that’s the problem. And no, I’m not suggesting that we make everything large print. That wouldn’t help people like me anyway. So my idea is that we implant a microchip into everything that would normally be read with the eyes. Whenever you look at it, this chip would transmit a signal that would tell you exactly what it says. Here’s how it works: when you look at one of the devices, your retina sends out a distinctly unmistakable reflection which triggers the CMOS censors and sends out alpha rays in the exact direction that the retinal reflection was seen from. The signal is then decoded by a nuero-ceptor textilizer device implanted in the brain. To accomodate for the size of the device, a little more than one fifth of the brain would have to be removed. But this is not hard to overcome when one sees the benefit. Just imagine; to read a book, all you have to do is look at the cover; glance at the clock and immediately you know exactly what time it is. The technology is still in the works, so please try and be patient. In the meantime, concentrate real hard on what you’re trying to read, and remember that squinting works pretty well, except when you have your contacts in the wrong eyes.