Q: Do doctors make housecalls?
A: Yes, but your house has to be really sick.
Q: Do doctors make housecalls?
A: Yes, but your house has to be really sick.
Little Johnny was 7 years old and like other boys his age rather curious. He had been hearing quite a bit about ‘courting’ from the older boys, and he wondered what it was and how it was done. One day he took his question mother, who became rather flustered. Instead of explaining things to Johnny, she told him to hide behind the curtains one night and watch his older sister and her boyfriend. This he did. The following morning, Johnny described EVERYTHING to his mother. “Sis and her boyfriend sat and talked for a while, then he turned off most of the lights. Then he started kissing and hugging her. I figured ‘Sis must be getting sick, because her face started looking funny. He must have thought so too, because he put his hand inside her blouse to feel her heart, just the way the doctor would. Except he’s not as smart as the doctor because he seemed to have trouble finding her heart. I guess he was getting sick too, because pretty soon both of them started panting and getting all out of breath. His other hand must have been cold because he put it under her skirt. About this time ‘Sis got worse and began to moan and sigh and squirm around and slide down toward the end of the couch. This was when her fever started. I knew it was a fever, because Sis told him she felt really hot. Finally, I found out what was making them so sick-a big eel had gotten inside his pants somehow. It just jumped out of his pants and stood there, about 10 inches long, honest, anyway he grabbed it in one hand to keep it from getting away. When Sis saw it, she got really scared-her eyes got big, and her mouth fell open, and she started calling out to God and stuff like that. She said it was the biggest one she’s ever seen. I should tell her about the ones down at the lake by our house! Anyway, Sis got brave and tried to kill the eel by biting its head off. All of a sudden she grabbed it with both hands and held it tight while he took a muzzle out of his pocket and slipped it over the eel’s head to keep it from biting again. Sis lay back and spread her legs so she could get a scissor-lock on it and he helped by lying on top of the eel. The eel put up a hell of a fight. Sis started groaning and squealing and her boyfriend almost upset the couch. I guess they wanted to kill the eel by squashing it between them. After a while they both quit moving and gave a great sigh. Her boyfriend got up, and sure enough, they killed the eel. I knew because it just hung there, limp, and some of its insides were hanging out. Sis and her boyfriend were a little tired from the battle, but they went back to courting anyway. He started hugging and kissing her again. By golly, the eel wasn’t dead! It jumped straight up and started to fight again. I guess eels are like cats- they have nine lives or something. This time, Sis jumped up and tried to kill it by sitting on it. After about a 35 minute struggle, they finally killed the eel. I knew it was dead, because I saw Sis’s boyfriend peel its skin off and flush it down the toilet.
The sweat dripped off my fingers and into the cracks. “Not again,” I thought. I could hear my heart thumping with a quickening pace. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Was it really a prompt? It sure didn’t prompt me to do anything but want to leave. The floor creaked. “Who’s there?” I yelled, but I don’t wait for an answer. I knew who was there. I quickly drew out my blaster and blew the door to hell. “That would do it,” I told myself as I slowly turned back to the screen, but I knew there was nothing I could do. There was no time, so I did to the screen what I do to anything else that I don’t have time for: I put my fist in it. The glass shards ripped through my hand like razorblades. For some reason I thought it was made of plastic. It didn’t matter much; you only need one finger to pull a trigger. I stood up and kicked over my desk, just for effect.
“Oh my gosh! What happened to your hand?” she asked, stepping over the trilorg carcass. “College essays,” I said, nodding to the overturned desk. Of course she wanted to look at my hand. She always acted like she was a doctor. “Well that glass has gotta go,” Glenn said, rubbing her chin. I smiled and told her to warn the others about the trilorgs. Murderous eight foot tall creatures that feast on brains were not something easily forgotten. These college applications were a curse, they swelled my brain. I thought my head must have looked like a big supple ham to them. I looked up, something was moving around on the floor above us. She heard it too. “Isn’t that the bridge above us?” she asked. She was right, they were probably flying us right to some trilorg slaughterhouse. “We’re wasting time, just go!” I yell. I wasn’t this nervous since last Thursday… the last time this happened. The circumstances were different. This carnage was supplemental. She ran out the rear airlock and I heard a muffled scream, then the sound of a bone saw. They were hungrier than I thought. That didn’t give me much time; they were probably planning to eat us all now, on our own ship. I jumped out the airlock and pumped three ounces of plasma into the trilorg. Glenn’s brain was exposed… that just did it. I kicked the trilorg’s remaining teeth in and headed towards the bridge.
I was blasting trilorgs left and right. You could hear the burning plasma rip into their bodies and come out the other side. My gun soon overloaded and died, that was inevitable. I kicked a few in the jaw as I made my way over to the main control panel to do what I had come there to do. I smashed down the ship’s self destruct button, that seemed to have the word “SUBMIT” on it, with my bloody fist and muttered, “See you all in hell.”
The ship groaned and shook, but no explosion came. I cursed under my breath. I must have forgotten some field… I searched the panel for a red asterix, but I ended up finding a few on my chest from the trilorgs’ blasters. One of them said something like, “Don’t move, human.” I could hear the whir of a bone saw behind me. Another one moved past me and tapped some commands into the panel. They were locking all the airlocks on the ship. “That’ll stop these pesky interruptions,” the trilorg said. Just then it clicked: all of the trilorgs had to be right here with me on the bridge. I slid my hand down to my belt. A trilorg shot my arm off. Through the immense pain I could hear them laughing and fighting over the fresh meat. With the diversion going, I whipped my other hand to my belt and unloaded three high explosive plasma grenades and smiled. “Eat up.” I said, tossing one in each mouth.
I woke up with a start, dried saliva on the corner of my mouth, my computer screen intact. “Crap,” I thought. The prompt is still there blinking incessantly. Nothing done, again.
An eighty-three year old lady finished her annual physical examination whereupon the doctor said “You are in fine shape for your age, but tell me… do you still have intercourse?”
“Just a minute, I’ll have to ask my husband,” she said.
She went out to the reception room and said: ” Morris do we still have intercourse?”
Morris answered impatiently… “If I told you once I told you a thousand times…We have Blue Cross!!”
A man staggers into an emergency room with two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat. Naturally the doctor asks him what happened.
“Well, it was like this,” said the man. “I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife when she sliced her ball into a pasture of cows. We went to look for it and while I was rooting around, I noticed one of the cows had something white at its rear end. I walked over and lifted up the tail and sure enough, there was my wife’s golf ball…stuck right in the middle of the cow’s butt. That’s when I made my mistake.”
“What did you do?”, asks the doctor.
Well, I lifted the tail and yelled to my wife,
“Hey, this looks like yours!”
A doctor of psychology was doing his morning rounds when he entered a patient’s room. He found his first patient sitting on the floor, pretending to saw a piece of wood in half. Another patient was hanging from the ceiling, by his feet.
The doctor asked the patient on the floor what he was doing. The patient replied, “Can’t you see! I’m sawing this piece of wood in half?”
The doctor then inquired as to why the other guy was hanging from the ceiling. The guy on the floor says, “Oh. He’s my friend, but he’s a little crazy. He thinks he’s a light bulb Doc.”
The doctor looks up and notices the guys face is going all red.
The doctor asks the wood cutter… “If he’s your friend, don’t you think you should get him down from there before he hurts himself?”
And the patient replies – “What? And work in the dark!”
“HOW DID IT HAPPEN?” the doctor asked the middle-aged farmhand as he set the man’s broken leg.
“Well, doc, 25 years ago …”
“Never mind the past. Tell me how you broke your leg this morning.”
“Like I was saying…25 years ago, when I first started working on the farm, that night, right after I’d gone to bed, the farmer’s beautiful daughter came into my room. She asked me if there was anything I wanted. I said, ‘No, everything is fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asked.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Isn’t there anything I can do for you?’
‘I reckon not,'”
“Excuse me,” said the doctor, “What does this story have to do with your leg?”
“Well, this morning,” the farmhand explained, “it dawned on me what she meant, and I fell off the roof!”
varhel – n. a doctor that plays guitar
tonlip – n. a doctor that writes poetry
techincal – v. to address a doctor as Mr. and it pisses him off
oinbt – n. a dermatologist that talks into an audio recorder, generally, insulting you in medical terms
iatromisisa – n. the dislike of doctors