Not to get all Alan Sepinwall on you, but I'm currently writing this blorgpost from my hospital room. Relax, I'm fine. After having Pericarditis a few weeks ago and needing some fluid drained from my heart (which I talked about in my Mailborg Post) I had to be readmitted to have some more fluid drained from my lungs. I'm fine, seriously. It's not a big deal. (JK I'm totally gonna die please help me.)
If you've never spent a night in the hospital, here's what goes on: They hook you up to a million machines that constantly bink and bonk and blurnk and bleenk and keep you up all night even though you're trying to recover from having ONE LITER OF AMBER-COLORED FLUID DRAINED FROM YOUR LUNGS. To distract you from the blonks and bleeps and excruciating pain, patients keep their televisions on all the time. Since I've been here, my wife and I have watched everything from Champions League Soccer to a nature documentary on frogs while bonding over our intense hatred for all things Kathie Lee Gifford.
But today, ohhhhh baby, my wellness took a turn for the good after watching Looney Tunes -- specifically a hilarious sketch starring Sylvester the cat.
Evster's Note: I actually live-tweeted Sylvester's Looney Tunes episode earlier today. If you read it, that's great, I love you and thanks for not blocking me. If not, the following will be a slightly more detailed and probably less funny description of what went down.
|This thing can suck a million butts.|
The cartoon started off with a drunk stork swerving and stumbling and struggling to find his way to deliver a baby mouse to its new parents. Tired of flying, the stork decided to drop off the mouse at a random doorstep where the baby was picked up by Sylvester's wife (who by the way I had no idea ever even existed). Mrs. Sylvester thought the baby mouse was adorbs, so she brought it in, cooed and swooned over it, and showed it to her husband. Sylvester then tried to eat the mouse.
Mrs. Sylvester scolded Sylvester and told him that they would love the baby mouse as if it was there own, then left to go run some errands. Now alone with the mouse, Sylvester went to change its diaper, but then had an idea, so he ran to the kitchen, grabbed some condiments and sprinkled the mouse with salt and pepps before wrapping it up in a lettuce diaper. Sylvester then put the mouse between two very large pieces of bread, brought the little rodent to his mouth, but right before he could take a bite the mouse popped its little mouse head out of the mouse sandwich, looked directly at Sylvester and said the word, "Dad-dy," two simple syllables that wobble the knees of every first-time father. Sylvester was smitten and put the mousewich down. I smiled from my bed which produced a sharp, stabbing pain in my neck and then I screamed for my nurse to come and kill me immediately.
|I love baby powder so much.|
Sylvester then decided to take the little guy for a walk, but only seconds after leaving the house, every goddamn cat in his neighborhood tried to eat the mouse. The cats chased Sylvester all the way home where he locked all his windows and doors immediately. Roughly 37 cats surrounded Sylvester's home, all desperate to find a way in.
The most clever of the cats was a guy who dressed up as a door-to-door vacuum salesman and barged into the living room to give his pitch. The vacuum salesman (who was a cat, remember) sprinkled a bunch of shredded paper all over the floor and into the baby's crib and then demonstrated how well his vacuum could slurp it all up. I turned my head for a second to cough up some phlegm and almost nailed my skull on my IV pole so I'm not quite sure how Sylvester kept him from eating the mouse, but I'm pretty sure that he just blasted him against the wall or shoved the vacuum cleaner down his throat.
Another cat put on a Santa Claus outfit and attempted to lower himself down the chimney, but Sylvester quickly thrwarted that plan by attaching a helium-filled balloon to a stick of dynamite and letting it go up the fireplace, because that's what you do when burglars try to enter your house through a chimney.
At this point (almost the conclusion!), one of my doctors came in to talk about stuff, because if there's one thing doctors love to do at hospitals it's disturbing you when you're having fun. This particular doctor was a resident on my floor named Dr. Pelborg (Pelborg!) and every time he leaves the room after talking to me, my wife and I look at each other and say, "Pelborg!" It's gotten to the point where when Pelborg enters my room I can't help myself from muttering, out loud, "Pelborg," and quite frankly I think he's onto me. He also happens to be one of the very few people who has to power to discharge me which may explain why I'll be here until mid to late October.
Back to the cartoon!
At the end, the drunk stork realized his mistake and went back to Sylvester's house to return the mouse to his rightful owners. In order to catch the mouse, the drunk stork (by the way, how amazing is it that Looney Tunes had a drunk stork? There's no way they would have a drunk character on a kid's cartoon these days. Also how fucking annoying is Kathie Lee Gifford?) attached a piece of Swiss cheese to a fishing pole and lowered the bait down the chimney. Sylvester saw the cheese, thought it was another cat, so he stopped the mouse but was reeled in by the stork. The drunk stork (still drunk!) then delivered Sylvester to a couple of really cute mouse parents.
It ended with the mouse parents pushing Sylvester in a stroller (he was wearing a bonnet!) and one of mouse parents said to the other, "Nothing like this ever happened on my side of the family," and then the cartoon faded out and that was the end. I laughed and had a coughing fit and possibly blacked out, but I can safely say that it was by far the best eight minutes of television that I've seen in the last twenty years.
I can also say that if my heart monitor continues to beep and blorp throughout the night tonight, I will rip it off the wall and throw it out my 4th-story window.*
*Press my "Call Nurse" button and get no reply and then press it again and continue to get ignored and then get nervous that I'm pressing it too much and spend the rest of the night hiding under my blankets, cold and lonely and tired and sad.
|They're wearing hats!|
My dying wish is to gain just a few more Twitter followers, so if you STILL HAVEN'T JOINED TWITTER I MEAN C'MON SERIOUSLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU JUST JOIN ALREADY AND FOLLOW ME AND FOLLOW PAT SAJACK AND YOUR LIFE WILL CHANGE FOREVER. Or just watch those videos above. That's prolly more enjoyable anyway.