Columbus, Ohio What in the world was she doing there? Did she have a key or pick the lock? Was the door even locked? What right does a relative have to just walk on in an apartment occupied by someone else and just take charge? If I were Fairrin Moss, I’d be highly ticked off at my sister. Not only did she invade Fairrin’s home, she found that pesky little 3-year-old locked safely away in the closet. (more…)
Cincinnati, Ohio Maggots. One of my most favorite subjects, both medically and the gross out factor…and sometimes the intermingling of the two. Back in the 1920’s, maggot therapy was first used as debridement and as much as I understand the usefulness of these white nasty wiggling baby flies, I’m not completely sure, even with facing losing a foot or something, I’d readily allow my doctor to fix me up a maggot dressing. Don’t get me wrong, I can look at maggots crawling on people all day long with complete
amusement fascination, but the thought of those things hooking and devouring my flesh or infection is not worth entertaining. But they work. Well, the right kind work. They have to be of the “blow fly” (not to be confused with the botfly, another incredibly fascinating critter), and well, I imagine if you’re having a little maggot therapy done, you’d really rather it be sterile and not so much “spontaneous”. The good maggots devour the dead tissues and the bad maggots devour everything else. The good maggots will leave their host once the necrotic tissue is gone, the bad maggots have no sense of proportion, they munch on everything without stopping. “Can you feel them?” is most likely one of the common questions (answer is fuck yes) with a quick follow-up of “does it hurt?” (answer is ‘sometimes’) I’ve had the pleasure of being able to ask “controlled” questions of patients who’ve had the “spontaneous” maggot infestation. “Controlled” meaning: I was on duty and acting on a professional basis, not able to ask the questions that I would truly love to know. And that’s why I chose the story of Jorene White to bring me out of this 20-day hiatus… (more…)
Dayton, Ohio You just don’t know about some people. What drives their thinking? Are they thinking at all? Today’s story involves a guy that is the poster boy for the above questions. Meet Brian Horst. Mr. Horst started his morning off with a bit of vandalism that cumulated in a stolen steel cylinder, stolen packages of meat, some stolen Mad Dog 20/20, and a busted up ATM. It’s one of those incidents that have to leave the cops shaking their heads and laughing, looking forward to the tales they can tell down the road about this idiot, knowing full well that the rookie hearing the story will wonder in the back of his mind if he is being put on.
So here is a quick story about a poor bastard that I can totally relate to. For those of you that know nothing about me, I used to have the tag of being a bit of a partier. I have tipped the occasional brew, and there have been times – and I know it comes a shock – that I may have tipped one or two too many. I have done some less-than-reputable things while intoxicated, much to my chagrin. My roommate awakened me once from a drunken stupor as I was about to defecate on a coffee table. Another friend of mine awoke to find this dude named Carter pissing in the wastebasket in his room. (Carter disavowed all knowledge of that event.) I have even been accused – unfairly and with malice – of urinating in a tent. (It was this guy named Levi that did that. That’s my story.)
The point to this rambling is that when people drink to excess, their capacity for place recognition diminishes slightly, and they find themselves doing inappropriate things that tend to upset the more sober-minded among us. Usually there is just embarrassment, or perhaps the requirement to find a new buddies house at which to crash. Robert T. Jenkins had the bad luck to mistake the meat counter at the local Wal-Mart for public facilities, and was, of course, busted. (more…)