Dr. Dick

I went to the urologist with my mom yesterday. Having not spent any time with a urologist, I wasn't quite sure what they did. I knew it had something to do with urine (or that was my guess because I'm pretty good at looking at words and breaking them up to find their meanings). Sitting in the waiting room and seeing all the pamphlets on viagra and erectile dysfunction, I quickly realized that the urologist must cover all kinds of issues from the waist down. Not, however, to be confused with the gynecologist or proctologist in any way. My mom was filling out the form indicating her health history. I told her she should put "erectile dysfunction" down just for laughs. She didn't want to do that.

After I had read every "Martha Stewart" and "Country Living" magazine in the waiting room (I skipped the edition of "You and Your Urine") I started looking around. I realized that there are two doctors in the practice. My mom was seeing the woman. The other doctor's name was - get this - Dr. Weiner.

Does your name have anything to do with your destiny?

These are real:

Chiropractor: Dr. McCracken
Dentist: Dr. Molar
G.I. Doc: Dr. Butt
Orthopedisit: Dr. Bonz
Driver's Ed Teacher: Mr. Carr
Hearing Aid Doc: Dr. Silence
Urologist: Dr. Cockburn

Cockburn??? Are you kidding me?

Do you think if you are born with a name like, let's say, Lester Vachina, are you more likely to become a gynecologist than the average person? If kids ridiculed you for fifteen years about your name being so close to the word vagina, is there something subconscious that would cause a person to gravitate towards a profession having to do with female genitalia? Just curious. Someone should do a research project. I think I'm onto something big.

Thong Rubdown

On my mundane family blog I talk about getting ready to run my first marathon on 1/18/2009. About a month ago my dear friend, Erika, gave me a necklace pendant shaped like a whale tail. It's supposed to symbolize luck on marathon day. For the past month I haven't taken it off and I've been talking about "rubbing my whale tail" quite a bit. Today when I was blogging on the boring blog, I wanted to research the actual Hawaiian history of the whale tail, so I do what anyone would do: google "whale tail." Of course Wiki has an explanation that I eagerly clicked on. This is what I get:



"Whale tail is the Y-shaped waistband of a thong or g-string when visible above the waistline of low-rise jeans, shorts, or a skirt that resembles a whale's tail. Intentionally or unintentionally, a whale tail is exposed above the trousers mostly when sitting or bending, or even while standing."


I kind of pride myself on knowing the latest lingo - well not all of it - but I do know about the Dirty Sanchez. I also know what a Rusty Trombone is. I like to identify the "tramp stamps" at the pool and would be the first one to point out a camel toe or moose knuckle. I did not, however, know that this lovely site above was called a "whale tail." Don't get me wrong - it makes perfect sense. It's just that I've been going around talking about rubbing whale tails for the past month and I certainly didn't mean I was going to touch that purple thing above.

These days you've got to memorize the Urban Dictionary just to make sure you're not saying something really nasty in conversation. For example, the definition of "your birthday" on the UD is not the day you were born, but "the day you came out of a vagina." And if you've got "Christmastoe" you've got a cameltoe at Christmastime. In case you were wondering what to call it when your Aunt Midge shows up in her tight polyester pants on December 25.


So think of me on Sunday as I rub my whale tail. But try not to get too aroused.

Beth