For the life of me, I cannot figure out how his avatar above fits with his pseudonym of “Bagman”. I see no connection!
Bagman is actually a man I know in real life. (He’s, like, really tall. If he wanted, he could probably pick me up and hurl me to Canada, especially if I laid off the chocolate chip cookies for a week or so.) We are co-workers at a big cancer hospital down here in Houston, Texas. I know his birthday, too, because, for the longest time, it was the code to get into some top-secret closets. (Still haven’t figured out how he pulled that one off.) I worked full-time at this cancer center until 2004, a year after Bagman arrived on the scene, when my older son was born. I quit that year but have returned to help one to two days a week here and there when maternity leaves come up, someone has moved on to another job, etc. This means that I have worked full-time with Bagman at one point and get to see him whenever I return.
He is a funny man.
Without taking too much time away from his time here, let me tell you that Bagman has endured a lot lately. He moved to Houston from north Texas in 2003 to work at the best cancer center in the country without knowing that he would need their help a few short years later. He will tell you in his blog, Big Bags O’ Fun, that he was diagnosed with cancer in June 2011 and has endured chemotherapy, radiation and surgery, and “did very well with all three”.
He began his humor blog in March 2012 during his recovery.
I’m so glad he did.
I’m not surprised that I laugh out loud as I read through his posts. Bagman and I have shared many, many laughs. When I worked there full-time, we sat next to each other in our office. I would often share my Chick-Fil-A french fries with him. I knew he’d take my leftovers. (You know I mean that in a nice way, right, Bagman?) We would get sidetracked by telling each other funny things patients said or did that it was hard to get work done sometimes.
I’m so grateful that he put cancer in a headlock (he is a former college football player!) and is here in the Break Room to dust that orange chair and whatnot.
OMIGOSHWOULDYOULOOKATTHETIME?! I’ve got to get to my foot massage!!
have long enjoyed, laughing with Kelley till I cried on many occasions. I was
thrilled when my good friend asked me to guest post and since
am spending the day cleaning the breakroom appliances, thought I would share
some concerns I have with my roommates on this topic. (Hurry back soon, Kelley!)
man and “messy” is not a foreign concept to me. I worked as a plumber’s helper,
spent ages in smelly locker rooms, lived all 4 years in a college dorm, raised
two boys, and love to hunt and fish. I have been baptized by dirt and grime and
to be honest, I kind of like it. However, I was raised by a mother who taught
me how to clean and I was married for 24 years. I know how to clean a house to
within an inch if it’s life. Not that I did it very often, but I do know how.
isn’t it? I now share a condo with 2 male roommates, both of whom are very
nerdy, single, (hard to imagine) scientists who could easily star on the TV
show ‘Big Bang Theory”, except they aren’t funny……..at all. As intellectual as they are, however, they
were apparently raised by sheep, one of the dumbest and nastiest animals on the
really. Have you ever seen or smelled a corral full of sheep? Yuk! You just
think they’re cute and fluffy at the petting zoo. They aren’t, especially the
ones that grow to be scientists and live with me. I am trying to understand
them. As free ranging sheep out in the pastures, cleaning up after themselves
probably wasn’t encouraged. After all, sheep are terrified of running water.
They’ll drown if they fall in. Guess that explains the water on the countertop
and bathroom floor every day. They also get sheared, not bathed. That explains
even more. Plus, they probably had a shepherd to shoo away the flies. Wish we
that’s me. I wonder if I can teach them?
I am older and wiser, after all. Plus, I
have a bathrobe and a cane. Maybe if I look and act like a shepherd I can
finally get through to them. I mean it’s only been 5 months. (Imagine me
standing proudly in a robe, holding my cane, teaching…..sheep?).
stove gets dirty after frying things? You clean it.” Sheep 1: “Baah” chew, chew, chew. Sheep 2: “Baah?……..Baah Baah”
Me: “Lesson # 2. When the carpet
needs to be vacuumed and the lint gets really thick? You vacuum it.” Sheep 1: “Baah
Baah” chew chew Sheep
2: chew chew, frown…… “burp”
your turtle aquarium from the other room, YOU NEED TO CLEAN IT. ” Sheep 1: “Baah?” Me: “Yes, you.” Sheep 2: Grins (don’t make me say
shower……” Both: “BAAH!! BAAHH!! BAAH!!”
running in terror. Me: “Oh, never mind. Sorry. Forgot
about that fear of water thing.”
Me: “Finally, #5. When the trash can overflows,
don’t expect Mr. Clean or the Fairy Pine Sol lady to arrive magically and clean
up after you. Take it out. THEN!” Sheep 1: Silence. Bewilderment. Chew, chew. Sheep
2: Indignant. “Baah!”. Turns, drops the
trash on the floor. Walks away.
from bashing him with it.
real shepherd will break a sheep’s leg to keep it from straying.
you have something on that leg. Hold still now…..”
It’d be awesome if you could swing by Big Bags O’ Fun. Bagman is sort of new on the scene and would appreciate seeing your nice faces over there, I just know it! Click HERE.