Von Gogh: Genius Or Digitoxic?

There isn't a great deal of connection betwixt title and post.

Again.

I'm currently listening to more Janis Joplin. You should too.

I'm also bricking it at my impending exam; but more of that later.

A few snippets:

Crane Man

A peaceful dayshift was interrupted recently; there is a massive building site outside the ED at present, and it's main 'feature', if you will, is a mahusive crane. Of the sort that moves shit around, not a giant bird, wonder of the natural world, and envy of other flying dudes the world over. The site is well locked up, and it never occurred to us that someone would break in... I can't think why we were so naive.

Crane man took against the world, and decided to make his stand atop the mighty metal edifice; which made conversation difficult, as shouting a hundred feet up into a brisk breeze just isn't conducive for that sort of thing.

Or for spitting at concerned passers-by, but I guess if you have to make a point, you have to make it. For a while I thought it was going to get exciting, Saturday night TV style, but the hostage negotiator never materialised, and as the evening drew in, and the drizzle got steadily heavier, and he got colder, everything fizzled out, and down he came.

For which we were all eternally grateful, especially

Sprite Bottle Man

from whom attention was diverted. SBM had taken it upon himself to add a little fun to bathtime, but became, shall we say, entangled. Despite his best efforts at home with hacksaw, he remained phallus entraptus, and we had to deploy the ring cutter, and an hefty bag of ice thereafter.

Which left us all looking at the neck of a Sprite bottle in rather a different light afterward.

Lastly

Vodka Man

VM was bet by his friends that he couldn't down a bottle of vodka, presumably in one. He won the bet, and shortly afterward found himself a little tipsy; he stumbled and fell, without really sustaining any injury, but this was enough for his worried friends who called the Ambos. At least we think they were worried. The Ambos said the 'friends' were laughing so hard, it was difficult to get an accurate history. They certainly weren't worried enough to come to hospital and sit with, or translate for, VM, who spoke no English; to be fair, he spoke very little of anything once the vodka kicked in. He just sat on his trolley and wept; possibly at the thought of how lucky he was to have such good friends.