Hey kiddies, it’s time for the Saturday Scruples!
To be honest, these “day of the week/questionnaire” things aren’t my bag, I usually enjoy going around reading the answers… Daphne always puts some good thoughts INTO these.
I also like to see people’s hypocrisy and laugh:
“OH BULLSHIT! You know damn well you would trample a wheelchair-bound midget with downs syndrome to get out of a flaming building if you had to… and you KNOW IT!!!”
Hypothetical questions are great that way.
Of course everyone KNOWS I would help that poor person get to safety at the risk of my own demise, RIGHT??? I mean it would be a waste to not have the little gimp to kick around and ridicule later.
(Note to self: Daphne’s not going to let me play anymore after that one. Watch. :0)
So, since everyone KNOWS, I can’t just play the damn thing like a normal person, I’m giving it *my* twist and give three answers: A fake answer, a real answer, and an answer that a famous celebrity would give.
HERE WE GO…
- A patient calls late Friday to inquire about a test result. You’re only a lab technician and can’t tell the patient he’s healthy and needn’t worry all weekend. Do you break the rules?
ANSWER: I would say, “hold on a minute!”, put the phone down, pretend to get somebody, use a West Indian accent and introduce myself as “Dr. Marrakeshkapakawani“. Inform them that there is no cause for alarm, and the results came back negative. HOWEVER, their urine sample has detected traces of a sexually-transmitted disease and their spouse (and all other partners) needs to come in for testing ASAP. Preferably at the same time.
BUT SERIOUSLY: No. I am not losing a really good job because some paranoid idiot can’t wait till Monday to know if they’re going to live or die. Fuck ’em!
SUSAN SARANDON: Well, I feel it would be irresponsible of me to discuss a matter I am unqualified to. But while I have your attention, let me share my thoughts on the war in Iraq with you…
- A good friend is a bouncer at a Mafia-owned club. He urgently needs a place to hide. Do you hide him?
ANSWER: Ah… the “mafia”. Yeah, I enjoyed the “Godfather” and “Goodfellas” as much as the next guy. It’s nothing like the movies. You don’t get “whacked” for looking at them the wrong way. If you fuck up, just be upfront and honest and they’ll work something out.
Growing up in NYC, the only self-admitted “mafia” I’ve ever seen were a bunch of wannabes in a social club, trying to be bad asses and impress the bigger boys in the Cappucino place down the block. The people whose balls were always busted by the FBI were honest, hardworking business men owned the local stores & kept the neighborhoods nice. You got $20 just for holding a door for them. They’d buy everyone drinks at the bar when they win at the racetrack. As long as you aren’t a shithead, bringing drugs in the neighborhood, or causing trouble, they looked out for you and your family.
I need specifics here. Is it the assholes in the social club again? Do I need to make a phone call?
BUT SERIOUSLY: See answer above. There’s no “Mafia”. It is a myth. Stop saying that shit. And if there was, a real friend wouldn’t put me in an awkward position of putting me and my family in that kind of danger. They’d run like hell before Al Pacino or Joe Pesci gets ’em.
O.J. SIMPSON: If it were a friend of mine in trouble… Of course I would help him. If need be, I’ll put him up with a place to stay, give him a fake beard, provide cash, and even a passport… Why? Because if he were my friend, I would believe him to be absolutely 100% innocent of any accusations that were brought upon him. Just curious, why are you asking me this question, anyway?
- Your friendly hairdresser has the sniffles and unconsciously wipes his nose with his hand. You’re HAVING a haircut. Do you say something? ANSWER: Well, hey… I’m a blond anyway. Maybe the extra green and yellow glistening streaks can become a fashion statement! *giggle* Extra hold too! (I just hope Bernardo won’t charge me extra for it.)
BUT SERIOUSLY: That’s disgusting. Bad enough I keep a list at work of people who don’t wash their hands after taking a piss (called my “No handshake for YOU, ya nasty bastard!” policy)… and I panic after seeing the “wash your hands” sign in a restaurant bathroom, and pray to God the employees saw it too. Ew. Ok?
The sink is two feet away, Bernardo. I’m not going anywhere. Go swish and sashay over there and wash your hands, sweetheart.
EMINEM: AW MAN, THAT SHIT IS NASTY! FUCK THAT!!! IF BERNARDO DID THAT SHIT TO ME… I’D BUT A BULLET IN HIS MOTHERFUCKING SKULL, YOU FUCKING HOMO BITCH!!!
(Off to read Maria’s now…)