You can't sweat out . . .

In Dr. Yak’s office building, there will be no Braille on elevators. Unless, you know, that’s discriminatory

In Just absolutely dominating people on March 16, 2009 at 11:49 pm

Feeling the need to amuse the loyal readers of JSF on a Tuesday, I logged on around 10:30 p.m. Monday night, lacking inspiration.  Without intervention, I may have written some forced, half-assed diatribe about how ridiculous I find it how how there is Braille writing on places such as floor numbers in elevators and bathroom signs, or how badass Pete Maravich was, or wondering why there have been three Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movies, three Transformer movies and only one He-Man movie made.  Actually, I’ll probably write about the latter two at some point, so hold your breath.  As for the Braille, that’s pretty much all I’ve got.  On the whole I am just confused, and have no answer for why there is Braille in these places and not on,  oh, virtually anything else in day to day life.

Pictures of Braille on the internet.  The ultimate irony.

Pictures of Braille on the internet. The ultimate irony.

Then like a bolt of lightning, in the form of a comment on this very blog, my inspiration arrived.  My muse, if you will.  Like Quentin Tarantino’s muse (Uma Thurman), mine in this case has blonde hair, blue eyes, and striking bone structure.  Unlike Tarantino’s, however, mine can dunk.  And sing the words of Dispatch’s “The General,” Billy Joel’s “Piano Man,” and Cake’s “Let Me Go” with enthusiasm that makes this wedding DJ look comatose.  He is Mr. Yakavonis aka the Yak, aka the future Dr. Yak, or as I will refer to him, Yak, M.D.  With his 6’6” stature, intense Lithuanian (definitely not Russian) looks, and ability to scowl, he will make an intimidating doctor.  It’s great to want to help people through medicine, but I’m at least 64% sure that he is only doing it so he can live out the following scene  in the future:

It is a warm summer day.  Yak, M.D, his son Arturus (7), and his son‘s best friend, Jake, have been playing in the park.  And by playing, I mean Yak, M.D. has been running the boys through conditioning drills because they looked slow rounding the bases in their recent coaches-pitch baseball league.  Yak, M.D. has on a navy blue and white striped Adidas sweatsuedo, while he has the boys decked out in full Providence College Friars basketball camp regalia.  Arturus and Jake both have their hands on their knees, and it appears the training has broken poor Jake’s spirit.

Yak, M.D: (Lowering his sunglasses) “Come on guys, whaddya have, cement in your shoes?”

Arturus: (Panting) “Dad, can we play Legos instead?  We’re tired!”

Jake: “Yeah Mr. Yak, can we please stop running?”

Yak, M.D: (sounding like Royal Tenenbaum) “Jake, I didn’t go to 7 years of school to be called Mr.  Get on the line boys!”

It will be inspirational.

But I digress.  The good doctor inspired me to write when he commented on a previous post with some quality advice for anyone who logs onto this site in search of cures for fever.  It’s simply to take aspirin.  Also, not reading the blog would probably be advisable, as plebian fever and John Stamos Fever don’t mix well.  Nor do Yak, M.D. and weakness.

  1. If you think that I am going to let some pimple-faced kid call me Mister after four years of medical school you are sadly, sadly mistaken. By the way, I will be mowing kids down in that league, I predict a Pedro-esque sub 1 ERA.

  2. Never trust a Russian!

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