One Tough Mutter

Last weekend, Lenny and I went to the Mutter Museum.  Because I have a love-hate relationship with medical museums.  And the contents of my stomach.  When I wasn't averting my gaze at all the gross forms of tuberculosis one could get or rifling through drawers of "Things Removed from People's Trachea," I was reminded of the museums of Eddie Bert and all the charms of haphazardly designed small museums.  At the Mutter, where I wandered around muttering "gross!" the displays would sometimes have captions.  And sometimes not.  There were whole display cases of unidentified bones.  Sometimes, there were special exhibits with lots of writings on the placards but not much to actually show for the narrative except for strips of cloth.  I was especially excited to see an exhibit called "the soap lady," because I thought that meant a lady who sells all different types of nice smelling soaps for me to smell (as my cohort discovered this week, I have been blessed with a keen nose).  I was sorely disappointed (and disgusted) to discover, however, that the  soap lady was really a mummified woman preserved by her own fat.  Gross.

(walking away from a dwarf display)
Moi: I just read a depressing story about a midget.

(a week later)
Lenny: I think "I just read a depressing story about a midget" should be the title of something- maybe your autobiography.