I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma on the wall, which bore his full name.
Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class, some 30-odd years ago
Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on way back then? Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man was way too old to have been my classmate.
After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Northmont high school.
“Yes. Yes, I did. I’m a thunderbolt,” he said gleaming with pride.
“When did you graduate?” I asked.
He answered, “in 1975. Why do you ask?”
“You were in my class!”, I exclaimed.
He looked at me closely, then, the ugly, old, bald, wrinkle-faced, fat, gray-haired, decrepit fool asked, “What did you teach?”
A four year old was at the pediatrician for a check up. As the doctor looked down her ears with an otoscope, he asked, “Do you think I’ll find Big Bird in here?”
The little girl stayed silent.
Next, the doctor took a tongue depressor and looked down her throat. He asked, “Do you think I’ll find the Cookie Monster down there?”
Again, the little girl was silent.
Then the doctor put a stethoscope to her chest. As he listened to her heart beat, he asked, “Do you think I’ll hear Barney in there?”
Feeling bad for the doctor, who was really trying, the girl said politely, “Oh no, Jesus is in my heart, but Barney’s on my underpants!”
Grandma was nearly ninety years of age when she won $1,000,000 in lottery. Her family were extremely worried about her heart and feared that news of her large win would come as too much of a shock for her.
“Think we had better call in the doctor to tell her the news,” suggested the eldest son.
The doctor soon arrived and the situation was explained to him.
“Now, you don’t have to worry about anything,” said the doctor. “I am fully trained in such delicate matters and I feel sure I can break this news to her gently. I assure you, there is absolutely no need for you to fear for her health.”
The doctor went in to see the old lady and gradually brought the conversation around the lottery.
“Tell me,” said the doctor, “what would you do if you had a large win – say one million dollars?”
“Why,” replied the old lady, “I’d give half of it to you, of course.”
The doctor fell down dead with shock.
Oly was working at the lumberyard, pushing a tree through the buzz saw, and accidentally sliced off all ten of his fingers.
He rushes to the emergency room. The doctor who examines him is really disturbed at such a tragedy. “Oh, yuck! Well, that’s all right, Oly, give me the fingers and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“I haven’t got the fingers,” Oly said, gasping through his pain.
The doctor said, “What do you mean, you haven’t got the fingers? It’s 2017. We’ve got microsurgery and all kinds of incredible techniques. I could have reattached the fingers. You’d be as good as new! Why didn’t you bring the fingers?”
“Well, geez, Doc,” Oly groaned, I couldn’t pick ’em up.”
The patient was lying in bed, still groggy from the effects of the recent operation. His doctor came in, looking very glum.
“I can’t be sure what’s wrong with you,” the doctor said. “I think it’s the drinking.”
“Okay,” the patient said. “Can we get an opinion from a doctor who’s sober?”