|It's a miracle I'm still alive
||[Dec. 18th, 2008|08:20 am]
I'll admit it, I love the CSI shows. I'd watch them all if I had the time, but I console myself with the original, which I watch religiously. Okay, if I'm home and it's on, I'll watch it. |
Part of it is just the geek in me. While I know it's totally unrealistic in terms of how most crimes forensics works -- in terms of budget, stylish modern facilities, and attractive lab workers -- I'm still fascinated by the science and secretly, if re-doing my life from scratch, would love to be an investigator. Even at Gourmet Store Unnamed, sniffing out and tracking down the dead rats and rotting food items gave me a great sense of satisfaction.
But watching CSI the other week, I realized that there's another reason I like to watch it. I like to see how people die. Wait, no, that sounds like I'm watching snuff films. No -- it's like a weekly lesson to me: never struggle with your assailant near a coffee table or bathroom sink, for example. I mean, let someone beat on you while you carefully maneuver you both away from sharp edges. Don't trust people whose hobbies/businesses are making masks or dollhouses. Stuff like that.
Usually, they're pretty manageable guidelines. But the other week I'm watching and after near an hour we discover that the chick died because she ran into the arm of a chair (admittedly, a big fancy chair) in the dark and punctured her liver -- and her friends had run off, so she just sort of laid there and died.
Ran into the arm of a chair?!?! For someone with my natural lack of grace, large momentum-granting body mass, and near lack of depth perception, this is bad news indeed. I have done this countless times. Obviously missing my liver, but...it's just a matter of time, isn't it? Until the Captain comes home and there I am, cats nibbling on me, laying in a little puddle of Percy urine.
So, next time you see me, please don't razz me about the layer of bubble wrap I've got taped around my middle.
Not to aid in the paranoia department
A lady that lived in the group home I managed died because she tripped (or was probably pushed - the
roaring guilty bitch assumed perpetrator was even tried and eventually not found guilty (though we were all pretty sure she was).
Anyway, Jana fell on the round knob of her daybed post and it ruptured her stomach and she later died.
Yeah you really wanted to hear that didn't you?
Edited at 2008-12-18 02:18 pm (UTC)
That was a death to carry the plot...Kinda like how the president's wife dies in Armageddon.
I carry that bubble wrap on the inside of our skin, except I call it, well um, ahh, fat.
Another reason to enjoy cookies, cake, pastries - now - it's self protection!
On a recent episode of Mythbusters, the gang spent most of the half-hour trying to design an airbag that could be worn by a person instead of installed in a vehicle. Unfortunately, they were unsuccessful -- most of their attempts ended up "killing" the crash test dummy more efficiently than the trauma they were trying to counteract. But at least someone's thinking of people like you!!
I saw that episode too. It was just a reminder of how fragile we really are, body wise. Luck factors in there too. Though it is a movie (err, 4 or 5) Final Destination just shows that when it is your time. Pack it in.