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Need a Hand?
Your Next Project Starts with BrownstonerMost Recent Articles
Need a Hand?
Your Next Project Starts with Brownstoner
jessibaby,
it’s not the doctors bringing it back,
it’s the people going abroad to have
medical procedures and coming back with
resistant organisms.
these clinics and hospitals don’t have the
same standards as US hospitals so
a patient has a tummy tuck in
Sri Lanka and comes back with some
resistant bacteria clinging to the
healing surgical site that quickly
becomes a post-op infection that doesn’t
respond to antibiotics.
it may not be a problem yet,
but mother nature can surprise us.
“At least in my nabe they are.”
By which I assume you mean Brooklyn Heights, ET?
good idea dibs! DCB, I am very very sympathetic. Sorry.
Good luck to you, sometimes it takes something like that to prod you into action.
I can’t for the life of me understand why people buy those Zen waterfall machines. You plug them in, put in a little water and you have your own waterfall bliss machine which is supposed to be relaxing.
All I associate with the sound of dripping water are plumbing disasters.
I can’t wait ’till lechacal reads that story, DCB.
I like my peanut butter with roasted peanuts and salt. Smuckers does me just fine and all that bacteria keeps me healthy (I think).
donatella, you should write to Prada or one of the other luxe handbag companies!!!!
DIBS, Great quote above. Explains exactly what the problem in our economy is. We are removing all personal responsibility.
Speaking of personal responsibility, at 4am I awake to what I think is the sound of a torrential downpour. After a few minutes, I realize the sound is coming from my bathroom. There is water pouring from the ceiling light.
I Get dressed, run upstairs, and bang on the door. A young, skinny hipster girl finally comes to the door, and I explain the situation. She says “I’ll look”. Door closes. 5 mins later her door opens, “The faucet was left on”. Door closes.
This is my own fault for being a renter. When I get back from Turkey, I am buying a place.
My mother once bought a jar of skippy that had a large piece of wood in the bottom of the jar. In her own fashion, she wrote to them, complaining and got a bunch of Skippy sent to her. Growing up, breakfast time was stepping barefoot on Rice Krispies on the kitchen floor. Every blasted morning some kid or other knocked over the tall skinny Rice Krispie box and it spilled cereal all over. My mother wrote to them about their lousey box design. Soon they made a more squat box and again we got a lot of Rice Krispies sent to us.
A professional complainer.
istar,
I like my peanut butter
without the bug parts and bacteria in it.
…then again, I’d better start developing
my resistence now.
order me up a case of unpasteurized
goat milk tout de suite. 😉