I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Laboratory Test Subject.

*flip is currently chronicling his attempts to get rich. Oddly enough, flip's exploits are being recounted alphabetically. (That's A-Z, for the uninitiated.) flip is also referring to himself in the third person. ' Cause flip's just cool like that.

Every since PETA took over, laboratories are having a difficult time getting their new products tested and approved. Now that you can no longer put lipstick on a pig, the big companies are having to pay people to test their products. If you are brave and don't mind being a petri dish in evil science experiments, you can make a decent living as a human Guinea Pig.
   My latest lower intestinal rash from the side effects of teeth whitening gel had cleared up, and my monthly $2000 cable bill was due, so I perused the medical test subjects wanted section of Craigslist and applied up for Laboratory Test Subject. I was immediately approved.
   I showed up to the address listed on the ad. The lab seemed a little sketchy compared to most of the laboratory assistant jobs I've taken, but hey, they offered to pay "as much as you think the procedure was worth... post procedure." I showed up and was given the basic lab volunteer qualification test: "Are you here of your own volition?", "Are you currently alive?" I passed with flying colors.
   The nice man with the impossibly large facial scar and the white in a previous life lab coat strapped me down to the table and asked me one last time if I was voluntarily submitting to be a laboratory test subject. I said "D'uh! Yes, already. But it's actually pronounced La-BOR-a-TORY, not Lo-BOT-omy." The man nodded his head conspiratorially, and placed a gas-mask over my face.

*Update: I LIEK KITTEHS! BARK, BARK! INSTEDE OF MONIES, I GOT PAYD IN COOKIES. MY NEW DOKTORS SAY MY BRAIN SKAR MAKES ME HAPPY! Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy. KITTEHS are my friend.  I liek, laboratororories, lobrotomies, lobostomies, lobotomies. BARK!