The Cat Is Out Of the Bag-Or Maybe It Is The Bag

I have got to start watching better television. Or better yet, maybe no television at all. Here I sit watching a show on the History channel about mercenaries trying to catch people who are illegally fishing off the shore of Liberia. (I know. This is really important stuff for me to be learning about! ) You never know when I might end up at a black tie affair and someone quite snooty might mention the audacity of illegal fishing off the coastal peninsula of Africa while cramming gross amounts of caviar into his gullet. And I, while sloshing vodka over the sides of my martini glass (how the hell does anyone drink out of those damned funny shaped glasses anyway?-Or is that part of the joke---the more you drink, the more you slosh?). Anyway, as I very gracefully soak my host's rare Persian rug with Stolichnaya, I can very casually say while trying not to slur, "Isn't it simply mahvelous that the Liberian government has no compunction about hiring mercenaries who more often than not use illegal tactics to uphold the laws of said governing body, and who would probably shoot my grandmother without a second thought should she have the poor misfortune to be sailing in their waters?"
Then I would very elegantly pick the the olives from the bottom of my glass and suck the vodka out of them.

But that's not even the reason why I simply have to stop watching the tube. During this particular episode of something akin to "Jaws, The Illegal Fishermen Hunters", a commercial played. Now, as intent as I was on watching every minute detail of "The Fish Wars", I , like most other short spanned Americans, generally tune out all the commercials. And I did.

Until I heard the words "sterilizing and reusing my catheters." Well, THAT sure got my attention. Are you listening Super Bowl Sunday advertisers? Use the words "sterilizing and reusing my catheters" in your next Budweiser commercial. I guarantee sales will soar!

Apparently, there is a woman (and there maybe more just like her), who due to poor insurance choices, could not afford to purchase new catheters, and so she simply washed them and hung them next to her panty hose over the shower curtain rod. (I'm guessing that's where she dried them. I don't think the dryer would have been a good choice, but again, I'm not sure of anything at this point.)
Don't despair, dear reader, because the good people at Liberator Health Insurance were more than willing to bail this woman out for a price she could afford. Now, I've no real idea (or even an imagined one, at that!) on how much catheters cost, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and say that I would stop eating before I start washing and reusing them.

Again. Way too much information. And during prime time, I might add. My prime time being that hour between finishing the dishes and putting up another load of laundry. Shudder to think I might one day have to squeeze in catheter washing, too.
Oh and the best part? The whole time this woman is spilling her guts/sharing about her sterilizing catheters, she is playing with a cat who happened to have also been sterilized. Ironic, no? Or maybe she just sterilizes everything around her. I didn't see any children. Hmmm. Maybe her problems run a little deeper than shitty insurance.

Maybe I need a hobby. Or maybe I just need to watch better t.v.

Whatever the case, I can tell you one thing for sure. Tomorrow, the Mountain Man is going to march into his Human Resources department at work and make sure our insurance covers unlimited new catheters. And they had better, because I was so dumb struck at the content of that commercial, that I didn't bother to catch the phone number of that God send of an insurance company!