Me, Myself and Simon Baron-Cohen*

Another Photoshopped picture, another step closer to a restraining order.

(To all you Internet fad slaves astute readers who noticed: yes, I'm doing a Lynndie on him.)

In a series of short posts updating those of you still not brain-damaged enough to actually be reading this , I'll be bringing you up to speed on my consistently hilariously miserable life, before going on hiatus and exam lockdown (as well as finally explaining why I've been so crappy at blogging and keeping up with the blogs of you lovely people who still mysteriously care enough to visit me so often). First up in any account of my daily activities is my love affair OMG he's so handsome I want his babies professional relationship with Professor Simon Baron-Cohen, world-famous autism expert, scion of a famous showbiz family, and unfortunately for him, my dissertation supervisor.

Just yesterday I handed in my third-year dissertation, which was on one of the theories of origin of autism and dyslexia. (Funnily enough, one of my friends remarked since I started typing this dissertation she's noticed some of the symptoms of both autism and dyslexia in ME. Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that I started typing this dissertation 36 hours before the deadline. Losing that much sleep can't be good for you. Just ask the little green fairy sitting on my shoulder. --Editor)

Seriously though, writing up that dissertation really exposed me to the scientific method on a way that the past two years here didn't. True, it was mostly a caffeine-fuelled rush accompanied by nightmares of Simon Baron-Cohen cracking a whip behind me every time I fell asleep, but researching all those articles and getting a glimpse of the mudslinging that goes on even in respectable medical journals made me appreciate the huge, sometimes ridiculous, emphasis on science here. And, of course, the amount of people out there who dedicate their lives to research, knowing full well they will never get the credit they deserve, yet plugging on out of pure curiosity and drive (Professor Baron-Cohen himself included).

Next up: Thanks to a slightly misinformed TCS reporter, I go head to head with the entire Cambridge University School of Clinical Medicine! Call an ambulance, will ya?

*Ahaha seewhatIdidthere? The title of the post parodied 'Me Myself and Irene' which is a film about schizophrenia and Simon Baron-Cohen delivers lectures on schizophrenia which is funny, see? Mm? Yes? No? I can stuff what where? Oh damn you all!

The Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race 2008

Those of you who are interested in such things already know that Oxford soundly thrashed Cambridge at this year's Annual Boat Race, despite having the slowest time since 1947. For those of you who weren't there, allow me to show you these snapshots of the race near the end, taken by me with my Nikon D60 Super-Duper Camera with SarcasmoLens and built-in Adobe Photoshop InstaEdit(TM):

Oxford leads Cambridge at Barnes Bridge, towards the end of the race.
The length between the two teams here has been estimated by spectators as twice the width of the African continent.

Oxford Rowers Close-up Picture:

Cambridge Rowers Close-up Picture:

Dammit. Next year, Oxford, next year... *shakes fist*

Watch This Space

Merry Christmas and A Very Angry New Year

Santa gets his preflight check-up

Scanning my stats, I realise that I've lost a substantial amount of my original readership, as often happens when you're the laziest blogger on the planet and stop updating for a few months (don't look at me like that okay? I had a life-changing event. Whaddya mean "No you didn't, you're just as lazy as before?" Am NOT! I'll give you proof, too. Right after *yawn* this nap... --Editor)

So to keep you reading, a taste of coming posts: Kazakhstan mourns the death of its national hero Borat! The Discworld mourns the Alzheimer's of its creator Terry Pratchett! The Island of Hot Half-Naked Amazons celebrates the return of their Sex God, the Angry Medic!*

Happy Holidays folks!

*Aha! Just checking to see if you were paying attention...one of those isn't true. I don't think the Kazakhs are really very upset. --Ed

The NHS Blog Doctor Saga: Zombie Doctors and the Revenge of the Nurses

Zombie doctors, megalomaniac nurses - who says medicine isn't fun?

Apologies for picking up on this so late, I was off on holiday in Amsterdam. (No I did not smoke any weed, okay, and the incident with the Dutch police about the magic mushrooms, the break-in and the 70-year-old lady - well who the heck asked her to use a red light in her dressing-room window anyway?! --Editor)

I got back to blogging to find the NHS Blog Doctor saga in full swing. To summarise, Dr Crippen of NHS Blog Doctor went MIA and hasn't blogged for months (not that I'd know anything about that. Hey, why my nose getting longer? --Ed) and people started getting worried. Then some dude with the very imaginative and totally original nickname of 'Dr P' posts a comment on NHS Blog Doctor announcing Crippen's death (as detailed in my previous post), leading to the Royal Mail being overwhelmed by people posting flowers and condolences (and to me having a minor heart attack. Who is this Dr P fellow anyway? Sounds like a rapper wannabe. Someone please show him this video and let him rip his penis off wanking. --Ed)

Anyhoo, Dr C's friends the Devil, Mr Eugenides and Wat Tyler have come out to say that the doctor is indeed alive and well. Having not heard from Crippen himself though, this means the good doctor is both alive AND dead. Not having the requisite number of brain cells to comprehend this (and needing a good excuse to mess around with Photoshop) I have decided this means he is UNdead. The world's first zombie doctor blogger! (Dammit. There goes another item on my Life Ambitions list. --Ed)

Then Dr P, deciding he/she isn't done gettin' jiggy with it, posts a comment on Paul Linford's blog detailing his/her evil plot to fake Crippen's death. Wow, a rapper-wannabe AND a supervillain! Where's the Scooby Doo gang when you need them? In this comment, he/she reveals the awful truth-- he/she is a NURSE. *dum dum DUMMMM*

"I have crossed swords with the guy many times through his blog due to his supreme arrogance towards the many of us out there who do not hold, or want to hold, the title of 'doctor', yet do a generally good job of holding the NHS together."

To me, this doesn't seem odd, because ol' Dr C isn't exactly known for being the biggest supporter of nurses. And this revelation can only mean more bad publicity for nurses and more venom being thrown at them by Dr C's supporters. 'Dr P' has done for good honest nurses what Osama bin Laden has done for millions of innocent peace-loving Muslims the world over - given them one heck of a bad image.

I can understand Dr P's venom at Crippen's years of nurse-bashing though. But don't you think wishing him dead is a little extreme?

NHS Blog Doctor: A Terrible Rumour

Sweet Lord.

I'm late in picking this up, but there's a terrible rumour on NHS Blog Doctor about Dr Crippen. He hasn't blogged since October and there's an announcement in the comments of his last post from someone claiming to be a partner at his practice.

There is no easy way to say this, but the doctor known as 'John' or 'Crippen' passed away in a road traffic accident mid-October. Although I appreciate the esteem in which many of you obviously held him, I must ask that the emails cease as of now - they are all redirected to our mail server and this is causing some difficulty.

This said, I thank all who visit here for their support of our dear, and much missed colleague.

Kind regards, Dr.P.

Someone tell me this is a sick joke, please.

Similar pleas on Cal's blog and Doctor Anonymous.

Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

Ma homie Guy Fawkes and me - birds of a feather.

And so a year comes to pass since I last blogged about Guy Fawkes Day, which means this blog is at least a year old. (And only 57 people have passed out whilst reading it! No, before you wise-asses mention it, unreported cases do not count. If you start haemorrhaging reading this blog and do not email me within 24 hours, you don't even get to become a statistic. So there. --Editor) It's been a while since I last blogged, and a lot has been going on, involving exploding Directors of Studies, exploding exam results, and exploding parents. (But, uh, in a very GOOD way, Mom. Honest! --Ed) Anyhoo, the bottom line is, I'm still here, thanks to my extremely supportive college and my extremely supportive fellow medics.

My fellow medics rallying around me during my time of hardship, their eyes brimming pools of sympathy.

This year's our BSc year, in which we get to do almost anything we want (which I detailed in a previous post, after which many of my caring readers, concerned for my wellbeing and continued sanity, advised me to make like Forrest Gump and run the hell away from medicine --Ed) and this year I'm doing Psychology. Being the arse-licking stalker appreciative-of-established-scientific-genius and driven student that I am, I've managed to get Professor Simon Baron-Cohen to supervise my dissertation. For those of you who don't recognise the name (and who haven't read my arse-licking stalker rather positive posts about him) Professor Baron-Cohen is the cousin of Sacha Baron-Cohen, the actor behind Ali G and Borat. More importantly, he's a world expert on autism and the only lecturer whose work didn't feel like work to me last year.

You can see where this is going, can't you?

Ignore the hot female on the cover. She's only there because, well, this is the Daily Mail.

P.S. Well, that is if my scarily-named blog stalkers don't get to me first, of course.