Ask and You Shall Receive......

Well folks when I signed off from my last post, my tongue was firmly in cheek. But here it is. The lesson here is, if you can think of it, it exists. Thanks to CDL for unearthing this.

How would you feel being carted off to hospital in this, and then being tended by a gaggle of nurses and doctors also covered in pink ribbons ? I feel nauseous just thinking about it.

Keep those nominations coming. It's going to be hard to pick a winner !

More Pink Boob Award Nominations .....

Good day to my avid readers one and all. Just when I thought that we couldn't top Owen's submission of the pink garbage truck doing the rounds of New York City, well folks here it is. Yes, that's right a pink fire truck. Apparently it travels the country loaded up with pink fireman making sure everybody is aware of breast cancer (just in case you weren't) on something called the The Pink Ribbon Tour. Just what I want to see when my house is burning to the ground. Thanks very much to CDL for this one.

Now I wonder if we can find a pink ambulance that goes around picking up poor little breast cancer victims, or would that be going too far ?

Pink Boob Award Nominations Continue.....

Keep those nominations coming in people ! Check out the latest additions and some very worthy contenders at that. Can we top the pink-washed garbage truck currently plying the streets of New York City ? Big thanks to my friend Owen for that one. Or how about the tackiest pink frog figurine I've ever seen which includes the bonus witty catchphrase...."Hop for Hope". Lord give me strength !!!

And whilst we're on the subject of all things breast cancer tacky, did anyone catch this little snippet from the Jezebel blog on something called "The Twin Titties Series" ? I might need to create a separate award category for the best of the worst breast cancer fundraising events. Not sure how we could top this one though. Check it out. So unbelievably offensive, I'm completely lost for words right at this moment.

[Editors Note:  Click here to view the Pink Boob Awards Gallery]

Boobs. What's not to love.

Firstly let me start by sending a big hello to all of my loyal readers. It's been somewhat slow this last couple of weeks on the blogging front. I've been hit with a monstrous case of Spring allergies which has put me in a bit of a fog, not dissimilar to a serious case of chemo brain, and in turn causing complete sentence construction rigor mortis.

If you are part of the anti-pink-ribbon-breast-cancer-awareness-related-cause-marketing-circus brigade, as am I, you will be aware of the concern that our culture's overexposure to all things pink and breast-cancerish is leading to a movement that is too busy making everybody "aware" of breast cancer by promoting a false culture of "survivor" hero-worship and overall glamorization of the disease, all whilst purporting to fund raise for the mythical "cure", when in fact, the pink-ribbon movement has just become another marketing tool in the profit-making arsenal of the corporate behemoths and anyone else wishing to hitch their wagon to the pink-washed sideshow.

With that said, this snippet just in from the breast cancer news wires. Yes folks the breast cancer marketing cause has gone all hip and trendy with the high school kids now wearing all manner of merchandise emblazoned with the slogan "I Love Boobies", as part of a breast cancer awareness effort amongst the youth culture by something called the Keep-A-Breast foundation. As recently reported in the Seattle Times, apparently certain high schools are starting to get a bit concerned about the clothing items and their flagrant use and depiction of the term "boobies" claiming that it's leading to conduct unbecoming of their teenage students. And being part of the great democracy that is the U.S.A, of course the banning of such items being worn at school is not about causing offense or being inappropriate but a limit of freedom of expression under the Constitution, the extent to which will no doubt be tested in the Supreme Court by some spotty 16 year old and their over-indulgent parents.

Ho hum, where does one start with this ?

First of all, I go back to my point from this and other posts that Breast Cancer itself, is a highly marketable cause because of it's sex appeal. It's about boobs. Teenagers are obsessed with fashion and boobs. Edgy clothing with the word boobs to appeal to the younger generation ? Genius. Do you think we would ever see a similar campaign for Colon Cancer ? T-shirts with "I Love Small Intestines" ? Or Bladder Cancer ? Bracelets with "I Love Urine", Anal Cancer ? "I Love Ass" ? Doesn't have quite the same cache' now does it.

Secondly. I love boobs as well. At least I loved the ones that I used to have before they became cancerous and had to be surgically removed and rebuilt from other bits of my body and artfully placed lumps of silicone. Does it help me to see some fashion victim teenager parading around with a t-shirt/bracelet/bag emblazoned with "I Love Boobies" all in the name of "breast cancer awareness" and "freedom of expression" fashion, just to remind me of everything that I once loved and then lost because of an insidious and awful disease that struck me without warning ? I don't think so, but here's what I think would help.

Instead of spending your hard-earned money on some dumb-ass tacky t-shirt, a worthless plastic bracelet or a pink bucket of fried chicken, how about just writing a check out for $10.00 and sending it to Breast Cancer Action, a grassroots advocacy organization who are one of the few organizations that can't be bought by the vested interests of soulless corporations and misguided philanthropy.

Your Pink Boob Award Nominations Please !

I have decided I can no longer ignore the plethora of pink products that are currently available for your purchase from all those altruistic corporate Gargantua's. With that said I've decided to do my bit. Today I am launching the inaugural Pink Boob Awards. Yes, that's right ! I am now accepting nominations for the most tacky, most ridiculous, and most pointless pieces of garish pink merchandise out there that you, my avid readers, can find. You'll see a list to the right of this page of the most recent nominations, which I will endeavor to keep updated in a timely manner. So get cracking, keep your eyes peeled, and send me your nominations either via the comments section or email me at cancerculture@gmail.com.

[Editors Note:  Please click here to view the Pink Boob Awards Gallery]

I'm talking about it whether you like it or not.

Can you believe this is my third posting in just a matter of weeks ?  What's wrong with me ?  I am just a blogging fool right  now.  I think it has something to do with the glorious spring weather we are experiencing here in the northern hemisphere, and there's nothing like a good dose of Vitamin D to get the old brain cells working again.  Oh, and currently with the number of towns around where I live festooned with pink breast-cancer awareness crap under the auspices of another dreadful marketing campaign called "Paint Your Town Pink", that's a sure sign that I am going to have a lot to say about all things breast cancer.

Lately, Deidra and I have been spending an inordinate amount of time pondering my blog. Critiques of old postings, ideas for new postings, what we are going to wear to my Oprah show appearance, the title of my best-selling book,  as well as musings on how "awareness" about breast cancer affects the psyche of the so-called "normal" folk.  Now if ever there was a bottle-or-two- of- wine-worthy conversation, this would surely be it, just for the record.

The bottom line seems to be this.  People don't like to talk about breast cancer and people certainly don't seem to want to laugh about breast cancer.   And judging by the overwhelming number of comments I receive on each posting, I daresay they don't want to read about it either.   Except maybe the people that have it and are blessed with a sense of humor that somehow survives  all of the unfunny moments that come with having breast cancer.    Because folks, believe it or not, there are funny moments, and there's nothing like a good belly aching laugh to make you forget, even if just for a moment, the horrible, big, fat, pink elephant in the room.

So why publicly blog and make crass jokes about all things breast cancer,  you ask ?  Well, because:

• I have breast cancer, and dealing with the day to day practicalities of it means it's often on my mind;

• Everybody has breast cancer, or so it seems;

• Having breast cancer really pisses me off;

• I think I'm funny, I have a point of view and writing about the freakish sideshow that the breast cancer fundraising cause has become, reminds me every day to take off my pink-colored glasses, keep being funny and keep having a point of view;

• I don't work so I have plenty of time to rant and rave about all of the above; 

• Why the hell not, I think I've earned the right.

So to all of you reading this blog, and feeling a little uncomfortable about the subject matter, I have this to say to you.   Breast cancer is uncomfortable, and certainly not fun or glamorous in any way shape or form,  and is not generally everyone's first choice of topic of conversation. But if, during your reading of this blog, you feel your bottom facial muscles twitching upward, this is what's commonly known as a smile, and this my friends is surely the best cure I know of for all the unfunny and unglamorous stuff about breast cancer.  If you feel angry or sad, then that's okay too.  In some ways, that's precisely the point.

P.S  For more narcissistic breast cancer-related  humour scribblings, check out the excellent Alright Tit blog written by Lisa Lynch.  

You don't have cancer.....yet.....

Firstly, thanks to all my loyal readers, all seven of you, for the play I received on my last post.  It seems my expose' of the fried breasts campaign struck a chord, well at least had you rolling in the aisles, and slathering for a bucket or two of tasty fried chicken I'll wager.  I aim to please and I was really delighted to get all of your comments and suggestions for more inappropriate breast cancer related marketing opportunities.  Please keep them coming and any suggestions you have for future story lines are always appreciated.  Just drop me a line at cancerculture@gmail.com and I'll give it my best shot.

So anyway today I was thinking about something that someone very dear to me said the other day in one of our many conversations about the whole cancer thing.   For privacy sake I'll refer to her as Deidra but she is someone I'm very close to.  In fact I would say that not only is Deidra one of my biggest cheerleaders but she is also one of the funniest people I know.  

Let me give you a sampling.    When I was first diagnosed all those years ago, I asked Deidra, being the well-connected person that she is, whether she knew of any breast surgeons.  Without even taking a breath, Deidra yells down the phone to me..."What the hell do you want a breast surgeon for ?  You really don't need implants you know".  When Deidra came to my birthday party whilst I was recovering from my surgery, not for implants I might add, someone had bought me one of those clear glycerin soaps.  Deidra walks in, picks it up off the table and says very loudly, "Oh my god Anna, your implant fell out".  Every time I tell Deidra I'm going to the Doctor, she always signs off by saying "Well have fun with that, Anna".  And folks, this is why I love Deidra.  Because her brand of humor is exactly like mine and she gives me the freedom and encouragement to laugh every day at this little predicament I find myself in.  So much better than sitting around a Kleenex box feeling like a victim I can tell you.

So the other day, when I was discussing the Fried Breasts post

with Deidra she said something that I thought was extremely funny and gave me some food for thought and inspiration for today's post.  She says..."Now Anna, let me tell you, that last post was so funny, and cancer is no laughing matter, and I don't have cancer YET, but when I do I'm going to be talking to you about it for sure".  Now I'm not even sure she really knew what she said until she'd said it, but really doesn't it seem like this is the case ?  I don't have cancer....yet.

Is it just me or does it not seem like everybody has freakin' cancer or some other equally mortifying condition ? I get the same feeling when I go to the supermarket and it seems like the majority of parking bays are reserved for the blue sticker certified disabled drivers.  This got me thinking.  Maybe being completely normal and having absolutely nothing wrong with you should be the new cause du jour.    We could hold fundraising walks and events for the healthy and able-bodied and use the money to make ourselves UNaware of breast cancer, AIDS, heart disease, multiple sclerosis, autism etc.  Parking bays could be signposted for the non-disabled i.e. the ones so far from the entrance they actually require a bus ride to get to the business in question.  Incidentally I probably wouldn't qualify for an "able" sticker as I think having advanced stage cancer and a sick sense of humor technically qualifies me as disabled.  (Note to self: must get blue parking sticker so it's easier for me to heave heavy loads of shopping into back of SUV).   I feel sure we'd be a whole lot happier and able to really kid ourselves into thinking that we as a human race are sustainable at least for another millenium.

And whilst I'm banging on about all of this.  Did you ever look at all the cause-related marketing and wonder how certain conditions get selected as "causes" in the first place ?  I hate to be the one to say this, but I think it has to do with palatability to the collective societal psyche.  For instance, breast cancer.  It's about women (mostly) and it's about breasts.  Well who doesn't love women, they're identified by the color pink apparently because it's soft and feminine, and a world without breasts ?  Come on !  Do you ever see fundraising events for Anal Cancer ? Irritable Bowel Syndrome ?  Psoriasis ? Hemorrhoids ? Psychopathic Schizophrenia ?  Genital Herpes ?  I could go on but I think you get my point.  These are not causes that anyone feels they can comfortably attach their products too in order to profit and appear altruistic at the same time, all based around attractive images of softness, femininity and the heart rending tragedy of it all.  Why ?  Because ultimately there's no sex appeal and no one wants a disease-ridden ass, a nasty skin affliction or a raving lunatic shoved in their face every time they buy a bucket of fried chicken.  It's just not sexy or good business for that matter.  

So next time you drive through your town, and find it draped in pink ribbons with Melissa Etheridge songs blaring from loud speakers, as you tuck into your tasty fried chicken breasts,  spare a thought for how blissfully unaware you are of all those other terrible afflictions that you never hear anything about.  I know Deidra and I will.

Fried Breasts !

Well folks, there's not many times in my life that I can honestly say words fail me. Except maybe the time I was told I had breast cancer at the ripe old age of 33 years old. And the last time I got a bill for landscaping work done at my house. Oh yeah, and then there was time I got pulled over for driving "crookedly". Mmmmm......but anyway let's stick to the point of this posting.

So all the online wires, blogs, action groups etc have been alive with much heated discussion over the latest wrongs to be foisted on the breast cancer community by corporate America. I think this one just about takes my breast, excuse me breath, away.

Check this out. Kentucky Fried Chicken have jumped on the marketing opportunity of using poor little breast cancer victims to peddle their products. Aptly named, "KFC's Buckets for the Cure", for every "Pink Bucket" of fried chicken sold, KFC will kindly donate 50c to that other corporate titan of charitable industry, Susan G. Komen for the Cure. And if you click on the website link you are met with a very somber and depressing piece of musak, just to put you in the mood for gorging on fried chicken, and a huge pink bucket decorated with the faces of all the poor little breast cancer victims, for which you can click on read about their inspirational stories. After looking through this website I feel like emotionally eating my way through fifty buckets of the stuff, I'm just so touched by the whole thing. Which is the point right, because if I eat fifty buckets of the stuff that results in a donation of $25.00 !

But let's back up a little bit and really dissect this campaign. First of all the name. Couldn't they have come up with something catchier and little more on point ? What's wrong with "Buckets of Breasts for the Cure", or "Non Cancerous Breasts are Best", or "Kentucky Fry's Breast Cancer", or even "Breasts are Better Fried than Cancerous".....come on people a little more imagination and pizazz please !

And why stop at fried chicken ? Why don't we just go all the way in testing the bounds of common sense and decency for that matter and have pink campaigns on other highly questionable products. How about "Carcinogenic Chemicals for the Cure", "Tobacco Giants United against Cancer", "Illegal Drug Pushers for the Cure", "Pink Products with TransFats", "Synthetic Hormones for a Cancer Cure Now"....please do let me know if you have other suggestions for genius pink-related campaigns. At this rate we could increase cancer rates tenfold, insuring that if and when a cure does emerge, everyone will have it and will then have to buy the cure. Win-win for sure !

But really, how can KFC honestly think that peddling their fatty, undoubtedly hormone-riddled, fried, obesity causing, thereby breast cancer risk increasing chicken, qualify them to stand behind the platform of finding a cure for breast cancer ? People the lunatics are running the asylum. This isn't a good thing, and once again the breast cancer population are the stool pigeons all in the name of corporate greed and profits. Once again I'm reminded of Breast Cancer Action group's work in this area, and would recommend that people make themselves aware of their excellent "Think Before You Pink" campaign and see these ridiculous self-serving corporate campaigns for what they really are. Exploitative and about profits and profits only.

Pink Lady Can Fly !

Just when you think you've seen it all, in terms of tacky pink products, I was shocked to see this horrendous little number on the Facebook "targeted" advertisements section of my profile page.

Some of you might recall my entry last year introducing you to Pink Lady.

Anyway it seems as though Pink Lady has now grown wings, and won first place for her glittery garish costume at the Bizarro World Mardi Gras Parade. I wish she would take some of that magic glitter, sprinkle it on her wings and fly the hell out of my face, or at least off of my Facebook page.

Apparently the Facebook genius advert bots, think, that because I became a fan of the Breast Cancer Action Facebook page, I am now interested in all things Breast Cancer, including this awful selection of exploitative pink products. This seems especially ironic, since the Breast Cancer Action group, is the architect and facilitator of the excellent "Think Before You Pink" campaign designed to rid us of these very assaults on the average consumer.

So my point in all of this is, that if anyone thinks that I might like to receive one of these products to help me in my fight against breast cancer, please think again. Quite frankly, I would rather be poked with sharp needles, ingest a serious amount of deadly chemicals, and give my left tit, than have someones hard earned money go to furthering the profits of these corporate buffoons.

The Situation

Is it really January 2010, and I've gone another month without bothering to post ? Where does the time go ? Certainly not on anything remotely productive I can tell you.

So I'm starting to get a little bored with my situation (not "The Situation" aka Jersey Shore Mike, whom I'm certainly not bored with and whom I might have a little crush on but can't decide between him or Pauly D.....but I digress....). My life seems a little dull right now. How do I know this, you rightly ask. It could be the middle of the Northeast winter which is depressing on any day. It could be not having a paying job. Or it might just be me being over the whole cancer thing. In any event, when the most exciting thing that happens to you is an infected hemorrhoid, and you start looking forward to going to the doctor for a full rectal examination and work-up, because it eats up at least a good two hours in an otherwise dull day and slow news week, you know you need to get a life.

I am going to make a promise to you, my faithful reader(s), that I will ramp this blog up and start making it something worthy of a million-dollar book deal and an appearance on the Oprah Show. Or the Gayle King Show. Or the Sarah Palin Show. Whomever comes knocking first.

But let's get down to business. Now we've covered the unspeakable assault on my nether regions of last week (which I'm pleased to say has been defeated by a nuclear arsenal of antibiotics and a myriad of snake-charmer-like ointments), I want to talk about something far more serious. Cancer patient profiling. Yes people, it's out there and we need to do something about it. Now. Before someone gets really pissed off.

So I was sitting in my oncologist's office last week, because the invasion of the nether regions by some infectious agent caused the cancer doctors to get nervous, and of course then required me to give a keg-load of my blood to make sure that my white blood cell counts were in fighting enough shape to kick this thing in the arse (horrible double entendre I know, but had to be done I'm afraid folks). Now this was a good thing from the point of view that it ate up invaluable minutes in an otherwise unproductive day, but a bad thing from the point of view that sitting in the cancer doctor's office with a thing growing out of your arse, an IV lead hanging out of the doorbell embedded in your chest, and a generally bad attitude to boot, is not many people's idea of a good time. But it does perhaps make you a little more sensitive to the everyday transgressions in "cancer etiquette".

Anyway, at my Doctor's office there is a horribly complicated waiting-room system; one for the mere mortals accompanying the poor cancer victims and another smaller waiting room for the poor cancer victims. You advance to the smaller waiting room to await your audience with your appointed medical genius, but only after you have been stuck with needles, promised your first-born child, weighed (just to remind yourself that you have cancer AND are 10-lbs overweight), and parted with most of your body's blood production for that day. Cancer victims go to the small waiting room and accompanying mere mortals must wait in the large waiting room. Got it ?

So I'm sitting there well into hour two of my fifteen minute visit, catching up on my Octomom and Kate Gosselin hair extension news, when I am rudely interrupted by Nurse Ratchet from the other side of the room. If memory serves me, the conversation went something like this.

Nurse Ratchet: "Oi You"

Cancer Victims: All look up perplexed.

Nurse Ratchet: "I said you".

Cancer Victim #1: "Who me ?"

Nurse Ratchet: "No you"

Cancer Victim #2 (aka Me): "Me" , pointing to myself.

Nurse Ratchet: In a very bitchy voice. "Yes you ! Who are you here to see ?"

Cancer Victim #2 (aka Me): "Dr Genius".

Nurse Ratchet: In a very bitchy voice. "Well get out of here and go and wait in the big waiting room. NOW !!!!"

Cancer Victim #2 proceeds meekly out of small waiting room, mutters defiantly "Whatever" and goes to large waiting room, continues muttering under her breath, and thinks better of killing Nurse Ratchet after spying fully uniformed and armed cop sitting across from her. Waits another hour and then is called back into small waiting room and is beckoned into Nurse Ratchet's office.

Nurse Ratchet. In sickly sweet voice: "Hi honey, how are you feeling today ? You look a little agitated. Why didn't you tell me you had a port. I wouldn't have kicked you out. You just don't look like a cancer patient. You seem too young and attractive".

ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME ?????? I just got cancer patient profiled. I feel violated. Next time I come to see Nurse Ratchet, I'll be sure to put on my most down-trodden look, dress myself in head-to-toe in garish pink-ribbon-laden Survivor gear, lose 55 lbs and throw up in her lap just for good measure. Maybe then she'll let me sit in the small waiting room.

Moral of this story, people ? First, use Charmin toilet roll, and nothing else. Secondly, next time you think you want to be rude to someone, take a second and just smile because you never know what kind of a day that person just had, cancer sucks and you don't need to make it worse. Third. Pauly D.