Okay, time to hit the mailbag for stuff you guys have sent in.
First, from the Guardian Angle Department:
Next is this lodging establishment:
Here we have a recycling can, apparently for people with partial bisection injuries (I don't think Darth Maul counts as "partial").
One reader says she discovered this uplifting decor at her dentist's office:
And, lastly, nurse Jenn says this drawer is in the galley of the nurses station she works at:
This is the launching of the aircraft carrier HMS Queen Elizabeth, July, 2014.
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| Photo credit AP |
This is the launching of the battleship HMS Prince of Wales in May, 1939.
If you look carefully, the same lady is in both pictures:
Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy, returning a call."
Debbie: "Hi, it's Debbie, Dr. Nerve's office manager. Are you going to be covering his new partner, Dr. Axon's, hospital patients this weekend?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Does he have any hospital patients?"
Debbie: "No. He doesn't even have hospital privileges yet, so he won't have any hospital patients."
Pause
Dr. Grumpy: "Then why are you asking?"
Debbie: "Because Dr. Nerve told me to."
Dr. Grumpy: "What can I do for you?"
Mr. Bedsheet: "My wife says I kick in my sleep."
Lady Bedsheet: "He does! About an hour after he dozes off his legs start thrashing around, and it keeps me up."
Dr. Grumpy: "Do they..."
Lady Bedsheet: "Actually, I took a video of him doing it last night. Would that help?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Sure, why don't you put it on and I'll have a look."
Lady Bedsheet: "Let me get my phone." (rummages in her purse)
Mr. Bedsheet: "Doc, do you mind if I come around to that side of your desk? I want to see what it looks like myself."
Dr. Grumpy: "That's fine, why don't you stand right there." (I took a swig of Diet Coke)
Lady Bedsheet: "Okay, this woke me up just after midnight last night, you can see them kicking here..."
(I suddenly tried desperately not to blow Diet Coke all over her phone)
Mr. Bedsheet: "WHAT THE FUCK, HARRIET? WHY IS THAT IN THERE?"
Lady Bedsheet: "What was I supposed to do? You always sleep in the buff."
(I managed - barely - to get the Diet Coke down)
Mr. Bedsheet: "YOU COULDN'T HAVE TAKEN IT FROM A DIFFERENT ANGLE?!!!"
Lady Bedsheet: "A different angle? Who am I, Spielberg?"
Mr. Bedsheet: "WHY DIDN'T YOU PUT A SHEET OVER MY CROTCH OR SOMETHING?"
Lady Bedsheet: "Look, Dr. Grumpy is a doctor. I'm sure he looks at schlongs all day in his job."
Mr. Bedsheet: "He's a brain doctor! They don't look at schlongs!"
Lady Bedsheet: "Dr. Grumpy, is this true? Do brain doctors look at schlongs at work or don't they?"
Dr. Grumpy: (desperately trying to regain control of the appointment) "Um, how many nights a week does this happen?"
Mr. Bedsheet: "What? That she films my schlong? Apparently at least once."
Lady Bedsheet: "Harold, can you stop saying 'schlong'? I'm sure the doctor would prefer a more medical term."
Mr. Bedsheet: "I think he'd prefer you go sit in the waiting room."
Lady Bedsheet: "Fine. Dr. Grumpy, did you see enough of the video to understand what's going on?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Most definitely."
