illustration

I don’t know about you guys, but during my childhood there was one game that I absolutely despised playing: The game of Operation.

You all know it. The creepy naked dude with his internal organs exposed for children to poke at and remove for their selfish pleasures. Yes children, harvest the organs! HARVEST THEM.

But, that was not the worst part of the game. The terror was in the removal of the organs themselves. For if you didn’t do a decent job during the surgery, a loud and sudden buzzing sound would be released from the man’s body like it was his own bloody screaming.

As a child who was terrified by basically everything, and saw everything very seriously and realistically, this game was absolute horror.

What a nightmare.

Let’s look closer….

Here’s the box – it always freaked me out as a kid. Firstly, the dude on the table is AWAKE. Perhaps slightly drowsy, but definitely conscious. Naturally, I felt bad for him, and the pain he must have been experiencing during the game. For the sake of this post, let’s call this guy Norm.

Norm clearly has a lot of medical problems, as demonstrated by the outrageous amount of surgery being done.

Looking at the box, we can see Norm with his inflamed red nose (which by the way is NOT addressed as a problem for him in the game). Does anyone care about Norm’s obvious nose issues?! No, no they don’t.

On the left, we have Einstein – in pink socks and red striped boxer shorts – holding a butterfly in one hand while jamming a ginormous metal device into Norm’s thigh.

Apparently pants aren’t required when you’re a surgeon. Also, he is unnecessarily standing on a tiny ladder. The whole procedure is disturbingly close to Norm’s crotch. Yes, I said it. You all noticed it too.

Behind Einstein is a small, cheerful boy holding a bucket of water and staring directly into Einstein’s butt. No further comment on that one.

Moving to the right, we have a taller fellow who looks like Ferris Bueller’s principal, Mr. Rooney.

This must have been his after-school job. Mr. Rooney appears to have serious back issues, but at least he’s wearing pants and shoes. And look! A face mask! …..not on his face though. SO CLOSE ROONEY! Below him is a happy little girl holding a very large weapon.

But it only gets weirder my friends! The game looks like this:

Norm not only has a serious nasal condition, but also, terrible hair.

I’m going to point out the weirdest thing here: why on earth are we supposed to remove things like ice cream cones and butterflies and apples from this poor man? I get the creativity here, but from my childhood experience, it was all very disturbing.

Here I was, a young girl, expected to remove absurd objects from Norm’s naked body with a pair of giant tweezers while he looked up at me with that hairdo. I knew it was a stupid game, but I couldnt’ help but take it very seriously and the buzzing sound gave me tremendous anxiety. It wasn’t exactly a sensory-fun game.

None of my friends seemed to understand the fear.

(p.s. I loved my friends)

So there you have it. Operation is an irrational game where children are asked to pull foreign objects, like ice cream cones, from a naked man with a nose deformity.

May this game never see the light of day again.

xoxo ~Kelly

This post has nothing to do with what I normally write about. However, it is very awkward and typical of my life, so here it goes:

It was a warm Monday evening. My sister Shannon and I decided it would be perfect if we spent our night under the stars watching Despicable Me 2 at the local drive-in movie theater.

On the way over, we sang songs and danced merrily in the car. We are best friends. We GET each other. She is the peanut butter to my jelly; the cookie to my milk. It was going to be a most wonderful night….

When we finally arrived, we decided to park our car right in the front row for maximum screen viewing.

However, moments later, I felt a sensation.
A pressure down below.
A full bladder.

I confessed to Shannon the devastating news. She munched on her stick of beef jerky and laughed at my predicament. But this was no laughing matter.

I had no choice; I had to use the drive-in bathroom.

At first, I thanked the Lord Almighty that the bathroom was not a porta-potty. Maybe luck was on my side after all. I found the women’s bathroom was located on the side of a shack-like building. The roof was crooked and the red door was made for the citizens of Munchkin Land. Unfortunately, I was not in Oz.

The red door squeaked loudly upon opening. Immediately there was a step down into a small cave-like space. Further, another step down led to what appeared to be some small, blue wooden doors. The entire space was dimly lit by a singular pathetic florescent light. The ceilings grazed my head, the walls were filthy, and impending doom hung in the air.

The illustration below actually makes the space look good:

After my initial shock, I pressed forward. There were two stalls; I chose the one on the left. As I entered, I crashed into the toilet with my legs, turned around and shut the swinging door. However, I then realized that the door was also short in stature. I could clearly see over the door, and anybody standing outside could very easily poke their head in and watch me as I do the business. I knew I needed to get in and out fast before someone else came in.

As soon as I had emptied my bladder, I heard someone come in. I dashed out of there like a cheetah. Faster than a cheetah, maybe. Like, if I was racing a cheetah, I would’ve won.

Back in the car, Shannon was still munching away at her jerky stick. Being my younger sister, it was her job to ask me the obvious and annoying question:

Then it hit me: I forgot to wash my hands.

I was so terrified of being in there, I peed and ran out. Now, I was covered in the most germiest germs imaginable.

We searched the car like wild animals for any kind of hand sanitizer, or wipe, or something. Suddenly, Shannon thought of an idea:

Yea right. No way on earth was I going to rub my germ hands all over her deodorant and feel any cleaner. Although, props to Shan for creative on-the-spot thinking.

So I went back to the bathroom shack of horrors and found the tiny sink. Again, made for the people of Munchkin Land.

Darn it all, I wasn’t there to wash my knees. I WAS THERE TO WASH MY HANDS.

I scrubbed my fingers and palms and again dashed out the red door, mortified that I had to go in there TWICE.

**Note: Ignore the fact that my outfit changed from black pants to pink shorts. I made these illustrations on two different days and apparently, I wanted a wardrobe change.

Where was I…oh yes, so back in the car, with my hands now clean, I was finally able to relax and enjoy the movie with my sister. Despicable Me 2 was really good and heart-warming and junk.

Moral of the story…

Let this be a lesson to all: Empty your bladder before you leave the house, or you might end up having to pee in a dilapidated shack from Munchkin Land and then be tempted to rub your hands on deodorant. Not to mention….PSYCHOLOGICAL SCARS FOR LIFE.

xo kelly

Eating Off Plastic

An illustrated blog about neurological misfortunes and some other things

Why Operation is the Weirdest Game Ever

Drive-in Movie Nightmare