This picture is:
A. The new ad campaign for Dove "it's 1/4 moisturizing cream" soap.
B. "Phantom of the Opera II- The Return."
C. A really weird update on the milk mustache ad campaign.
D. A public service announcement about casual use of quick lime.
E. An advertisement for an unreleased Alzheimer's treatment still in development.
(Yes, it's E. Though I'm not sure that makes any more sense than the others)
"Hi, this is Mr. Foggy. I need to cancel my appointment with Dr. Grumpy for this week. It's, uh, one of the days this week. Actually, maybe it's next week, or the week after that... I'm sure it's sometime this month. Anyway, can someone please call me back and tell me when my appointment is so I can cancel it?"
One of my longstanding patients, Mrs. Laugh, came in this week.
Dr. Grumpy: "How are you doing?"
Mrs. Laugh: "Fine. You know, I've been meaning to tell you how great you look for your age!"
Dr. Grumpy: "Thanks. I had no idea that looking great in middle-aged now meant pudgy and balding."
Mrs. Laugh: "Oh, I think you're beyond middle-age!"
Dr. Grumpy: "All right... Where are you going with this?"
Mrs. Laugh: "Well, I was looking up your profile on shittydocratings.com and found this:" (holds up iPhone)
This is Mrs. Grumpy.
So many of you have returned to Douglas C. Kenney Elementary School these days. It certainly keeps me busier, as your friends who are taking Zoom classes don't get sent to the nurse for itches, life-threatening pencil pokes, and sundry ailments that just happen to coincide with a math test.
I'd like to thank all the parents who filled out your information cards with such helpful items as "he's allergic to something, don't let him have any," a reminder not to give your child "stuff that might not be organic," and (my favorite) "do NOT allow her to get COVID!!!" Please keep in mind that I'm not the one who voluntarily sent your kid back to what is basically a 95,000 square foot fomite.
I'd also like to make a public service announcement: As you know, me and a handful of teachers have been assigned to screen you little darlings for fevers each morning, pointing that laser scanner at your forehead before you go inside.
It certainly alarmed us when we found large numbers of you were running fevers when you got off the bus. Not just fevers, actually, but temperatures in the 120 degree range. Which are, quite frankly, incompatible with human life.
Fortunately, Maxine, the lady who's been driving school buses since they were pulled by horses, called me onto the bus to see the discarded hand warmers from the camping supply store, which you frauds adorable children had been pressing to your foreheads and passing around.
As always, nice try. Now go to class.
Logging into the pharmacy prescription portal to do refills this morning, I was greeted by this:
So, being the kind of doctor (I hope) who wants to make sure his patients are getting their medications, I click on the warning. It immediately brought up this helpful box:
That's all folks. No name, birthday, medication, anything.
