Oh, The Iron-y! And The ROOT of the Problem

I find myself struggling to think of something to write about. This is a good/bad (bood? Gad?) thing. Good because that means that all is quiet on the brain front. Bad because I fancy myself a writer and this blog is about my brain.

 

Fortune smiled upon me the other night and had my younger sister (trying out a vegetarian diet) ask my older sister (a registered dietitian) about the symptoms of iron deficiency.

 

You see, most of our iron comes from meat. As a herbivore, my younger sister was concerned about not getting enough iron (btw, the initial symptoms are, among others, pale skin, cold hands and feet, and fast heartbeat).

 

I can only speculate about what becomes of you if you continue to defice (?) yourself of iron – it seems to me that if the above symptoms were to continue to escalate you’d become a zombie.

 

That makes sense, zombies run around ravenously consuming flesh; they do this because they need precious iron. More specifically, zombies crave brains – this brings us full circle.

 

Listen, my brain would quite a treat for an iron deficed(?) zombie. This is because, 1. It’s a brain, and we’ve already discussed zombies’ love for brains, and 2. My brain has more iron than the normal brain.

 

Where did this additional iron come from? The guy in the this VIDEO could very well be me, except she injected the iron directly into my head. I’m not sure why she did it, I don’t guard evil mutants or even work at a detention center.

 

I jest. After the hemorrhage, the blood in my brain said, “It’s boring in here, I’m gonna go back to the bloodstream and circulate. Iron, you wanna come?” Iron had grown pretty comfy in his/her (?) new surroundings, sunk down a bit further in the cozy brainstem, “No thanks, blood. I really like it here, you’re too salty anyway.”

 

In essence, the iron is squatting in my brainstem. This wouldn’t be an issue, but iron is not very considerate of the brain cells as they go about there daily business.

 

For instance, a brain cell (let’s call him/her (?) “Pat”) needs to tell another brain cell (we’ll call him/her (?) “Jesse”), “Hey, I just got a message from Left Hand, he is going to carry a mug of hot coffee, will you tell cerebellum to walk smoothly and be mindful of the orientation of the cup?” As he’s saying this iron pops up and screeches while banging pots and pans.

 

Jesse only hears bits and pieces of the message.

 

The point is that there is a lot of screeching and pot banging going on up there.

 

Furthermore, iron content in your body needs to be just right or you’ll become a zombie or a tasty treat for one.

 

TBI is…Tampering is Bad when Impudent. I tweeted this one yesterday, here’s more explanation – I got a shiny, new, sexy red Samsung Galaxy s3 last week and just as soon as I could get to a computer with a micro USB cable, I rooted it. I had never flashed a custom ROM before so I thought “what the heck?”

It took me a few hours to get the ROM installed (it shouldn’t take that long), after which I proudly proclaimed, “I DID IT! It’s about f*ing time!” I don’t curse, so I did actually say “it’s about fasterisking time!” While I reveled in my victory, the phone got caught up in a UNFORTUNATELY, SETUP WIZARD HAS STOPPED WORKING and UNFORTUNATELY, THE PROCESS COM.GOOGLE.PROCESS.GAPPS HAS STOPPED WORKING routine. I keep pressing ok, all I’m thinking about is playing Angry Birds or even *gasp* making a phone call!

Turns out I flashed a zip file with all the Google apps that was fasterisking out of date. I went through quite an ordeal to get it back up and running again. If you would like more details, leave a comment.

 

FIN

@JarrettLWilson