Agony Aunt, edition 12+1

For the superstitious I shall refrain from running in circles throwing spilled salt merrily around, stepping on black cats ON cracks in the pavement, dodging under ladders and saying ‘thirteen!! THIRTEEN. Thirteen!’ excessively. Oops, except perhaps that one time. Oh, and Dear Old Aunty is now officially a teenager. Being thirteen and all. Where does the time go?

I’ll quit it now. Really. What broken mirror?

 

….and so it begins again. I decide that I cannot let Goog.le proclaim me the font of all knowlege with regard to an.al speculums and p.ee hole in.sertions without at least a little objection. But I’ll choose some other examples to discuss in greater detail, if that’s okay with YOU.

As always, click on the button for previous editions of my snark advice to the frequently illiterate. Or click on the Bad Google tab at the top to see a more comprehensive list of what can only be described as Really Dumb Stuff.

• Sparrow phlebotomist girl dies.
• can i f*ck to pregnant time?
• i have 0% (non pregnant) of quantitative HCG.
• Vaginal suppository application diagram.
• Seen the heartbeat don’t feel pregnant. 
• Gunshot wound to the penis.
• Cold medicine give me an erection.

Item #1 (Sparrow phlebotomist girl dies):

Well that was jolly careless of her, wasn’t it?

Now whose going to extract blood from all these darn sparrows?

I call it inconsiderate.

Item # 2 (can i f*ck to pregnant time?):

I’m afraid I just don’t know. Can you?

I’m not very musical, but I can probably manage to beat out 4/4 time if that’s any help?

Item # 3 (i have 0% (non pregnant) of quantitative HCG):

I’ve answered this one recently, but I’ll save you the search through the back archives. I know you’re burning up to understand why the blood test is wrong because you ARE pregnant, right?

Apologies in advance if this seems a little mean, but tough love is sometimes required in this sort of situation. If it helps, I’ll supply the chocolates and inevitable tissues?

Let me get on the blower  all stat and stuff!

Yep, honey, I’ll be right with you. Promise. I’m paging the Tooth Fairy and Father Christmas as we speak. They’ll want to get a hold of this one.

What, you mean they don’t exist?

Kind on my point, I suppose….

Sorry.

That WAS kinda mean. You’re not pregnant.

No, really, you’re not.

Item # 4 (Vaginal suppository application diagram):

Sigh.

For all of you who are near Terminally Confused about the naming convention with regard to orifices, insertional activities thereof, I shall once again explain.

If you put it in the furthermost orifice from the front, you’re putting it in your bottom and you call it a suppository.

If you put it in the middle orifice that girlies have, but not boys, then you call it a pessary.

If you put it in the front one, well, we’re back to p.ee hole in.sertions and I don’t give advice on those.

Capiche? Please, let’s stop all the messy sounding reference to vag.inal supp.ositories. My mental imagery thanks you in advance.

Item # 5 (Seen the heartbeat don’t feel pregnant):

What’s the name of that river in Egypt, again?

Yeah. That one.

You and Mz 0% Quant Beta really should have a chat sometime. Could be educational for both of you.

Item # 6 (Gunshot wound to the penis.):

Ouch.

Ooh-err. Why are you googling about GSW’s to the willy, anyway? Doesn’t sound like much of a way to get your jollies to me.

Um, and if it was you, get well soon.

Item # 7 (Cold medicine give me an erection):

I’m really not sure how best to respond, dear googler, other than perhaps with ’Congratulations, that must represent quite the saving on Vi.agra!’ and ‘Lucky you’.

I think my head is beginning to hurt….