Even old people are funny!
Use a vaccuum cleaner to siphon gas?! Click here to see the obvious results...
Use a vaccuum cleaner to siphon gas?! Click here to see the obvious results...
"Does she know her breasts are showing?"
My daily routine includes a trip to the post office. Since the government has afforded a new auto-door sensor, the experience is somewhat pleasant. Yesterday, much to my suprise, something very unusual happened: A woman had left her breast out.
I've encountered people that have forgotten to button a shirt-- or perhaps even left a zipper down, but this woman had left her right breast completely "a la mode" for the world to see. After enjoying my triple-take, I decided it was my best interest to leave immediately, before I was labeled a pervert, or even worse: on Candid Camera.
I am reminded of a saying my Grandma Williams used to say: "I wouldn't trade my luck for a license to steal!"
Even odder than seeing a lady standing at an stamp vending machine with her love scoop out: NOBODY ELSE NOTICED!!
What is approprate for this situation? (I wanted to prove that males are truly pigs and comment on her nice nipple..)
I had a patient fart today as she leaned to sit in my office chair. This is the second time she's done this and I actually find it kind of funny.
No "Excuse me", "oops!", or anything. Just the pure sound of Micky D's expressing itself out loud. Thank God it wasn't like the guy that cleaned out his ass-bag in the bathroom across the hall that didn't use the fan...
Today I kicked a patient out of my office. You've met the type-- always asking questions upon questions about his questions. Then when he gets his final answer, he says he doesn't believe you and asks another question.
We'll call him Walter, a 72-year old fairly frail gentleman that sucked me into his little game with his false kindness. At first he seemed like a nice guy-- told me a couple stories that I seemed to find mildly interesting. When we got done examining him, the bastard started complaining about my technique, my education, the way the pictures in the office were hung, and the way my staff wore their hair.
After making me completely repeat myself three times (no neurological problems, just a mean old man) and utterly wasting 30 minutes of my time (and 7 other waiting patients) I realized his game... his goal was to piss me off.
Successful approach, but since my "pain-in-the-ass-radar" tuned in, I just told him he'd have to see a specialist on Monday. Ahkam Hussein Mahammad was my referral-- a short guy with stubby little fingers that doesn't speak a word of English and loves to check old men's prostates. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Any similarity what-soever is purly coincidence, silly bungholio bastard!)
I can see it now, Walter and his friends will be picketing outside my office tomorrow...
(Yes, I did bill his insurance. It was coded 9920X New Patient Pain-in-the-ass Consultation $112.oo)
My nephew ... Hurricane Kenny!
We ate, we drank, we ate and drank some more... and we played Whiffle Ball with the kids. Each team consisted of 5 adults and 5 kids. The stakes were high: The losing team would be referred to forever as "the losing team." Rules: Kids couldn't strike out, or get "out" at a base. If you were under 18, you could basically get away with Whiffle murder.
Final Score: Losing Team, 6 with one broken toe (clean break) and two low back problems. Winning Team, 8 with only one torn rotator cuff.
Amazingly, none of the kids were hurt.
(Kenny was voted the teams Most Valuable Player)