Seen in a hospital chart

 

Second opinion

Dr. Grumpy: "Let's see... At your last visit I prescribed Flipazol. Did that help?"

Ms. Webb: "No, it didn't do anything."

Dr. Grumpy: "Were there any side effects?"

Ms. Webb: "There were a lot of them. It was terrible! I can't believe you prescribed it for me!"

Dr. Grumpy: "What happened?"

Ms. Webb: "Actually, I never even had it filled. I didn't like all the side effects I read about."

Dr. Grumpy: "Then why did you say it didn't help you?"

Ms. Webb: "A lady I met online told me it wouldn't."

Memories

In the early 1970's, my mom was found to have breast cancer. I was too young at the time to really understand it, and fortunately she's still around.

Anyway, she had a right mastectomy. At the time they waited about a year before they'd put in a breast implant, so during that time she used a prosthetic boob. She'd put it in her bra before leaving for work, and take it out when she got home.

Anyway, there was one day where she had a lot of errands to run, and when she got back was telling my dad how, everywhere she went, she got some strange looks. Nothing horrible, just people seemed surprised. She figured it was something she was wearing, or a large food stain on her blouse, or whatever.

My dad took her down the hall to their bathroom, where she'd left the fake breast lying on the counter.

Random pictures

 Okay, time to put up some stuff you guys have sent in.

First is this pizza place. I can only assume the owner isn't familiar with idioms. Either that or he's trying to keep the place empty.

 

Next, from the "nudge nudge, wink wink" department:

"Only $32? Is that at the same time?"

One reader wants to know why the Slurpee looks like the poop emoji.

 

Another says this beauty salon couldn't look more disreputable if it tried:

 

 

 

And lastly, a reader says he ordered a brisket sandwich with onions, and wished they'd abbreviated it differently.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Dr. Grumpy: "Do you drive?"

Mr. Safety: "Oh, hell no. My seizures have been so unpredictable that I've given it up."

Dr. Grumpy: "Were they ever well-controlled?"

Mr. Safety: "They were good, but not great. It always seemed like one would occur when I'd just started to think they were controlled, and I'd have to stop driving again. I finally gave it up. It just wasn't safe for me, and I don't want to hurt anyone else. My friends and I all work at the same warehouse, so I just carpool with them and chip in gas money each week."

Dr. Grumpy: "That works out. What do you do over there?"

Mr. Safety: "I'm a forklift operator."