My father just had major surgery for skin cancer, and I'm a little surprised at just how relieved I am that it went well. I knew I was worried, but apparently I was really worried. Wheee!
I was telling my friend Bitters about how they had carved away a bunch of skin from his shoulder and replaced it with skin from his leg, and Bitters observed that he was rebuilt, like the six million dollar man! Except, as I pointed out, that they used meat instead of metal, so he wasn't really any faster or stronger. And I also coined the term 'gorg, short for Orgorg.
"We are the 'gorg. Resistance is futile. Largely because you were all organic organisms already."