14 posts tagged “humor”
Walking up to make my purchase, I make eye contact with the clerk and lay the soda on the counter. S/he smiles.
"Hi, how are you?" s/he asks.
S/he informs me of a sale on a particular brand of chips that s/he thinks would go great with my soda. Oh, I'd love to buy the chips, as it seems it would make my clerk very happy. However, I only have enough change for the soda. So, I reply, "No, thank you" to the chip suggestion.
The clerk seems a little disappointed, but pleasantly enough tells me that s/he is very approving of the weather we've been having lately. I'm relieved my clerk isn't too disappointed that I didn't buy the chips, but then, while I am trying to think of another point of conversation, I notice my transaction is finished. The soda is mine, and I slowly take it from my clerk's hand.
"Thank you, have a nice day," the clerk says.
I reluctantly walk away, a little surprised at how easily I am being dismissed.
"HI, how are you?" I hear him/her ask the next customer.
I go to my car feeling rejected, dejected and flabbergasted at how quickly my convenience store clerk moved on after our time together. At how quickly s/he moved to transact with someone else. Didn't we have something? Weren't we good together?
But, clutching my soda bottle to my chest, I lean my head back against the headrest of the driver's seat and accept that we, as a customer/employee, are finished. I sigh deeply and drive home.
Humor from Not Dead Yet... it's a little sarcastic...
Euthanasia : a choice for doctors
When doctors graduate from medical school, who should decide if they live or die? The parents? The patients? The government?
In a perfect world, such a cruel question would never be asked. Not long ago, doctors were seen as an integral part of the community where they practiced.
Today, unable to make house calls, relying on exorbitant fees, often able to communicate only with their own kind, physicians are segregated and distanced from their patients and, indeed, from life itself.
The question for any compassionate person is this: Should doctors, whose very existence may be tragically painful for them and their loved ones, have the right to die?
I've been following with great interest the case of Michael Small of Gatorville, Fla. As you probably know, his case has become the symbol of the emotional debate over how far society should be expected to go to preserve life.
A federal judge recently ruled that all nutrition and hydration for Michael Small should be discontinued because he is in a "persistent vegetative state." Of course there are some, as there always are, who argue that Small's condition does not fit the commonly accepted definition of a persistent vegetative state. They point to the fact that not only is he fully conscious but he also breathes on his own, talks, zips around town in a motorized wheelchair, drives an adapted minivan, enjoys a rigorous sex life and chairs the department of anthropology at Northern Florida University.
Managed Health Care in 2050: An Enhanced Death Benefit
Ralph: My name is Ralph and I am calling to get an authorization for a medical procedure.
CSR: Ralph, are you a patient or a medical professional?
Ralph: Patient.
CSR:I'm sorry, Ralph, but Touchstone only authorizes procedures that are requested by a licensed physician.
Ralph: But I was told by my doctor that I could directly request an assisted suicide from Touchstone.
CSR: Yes, sir, that is correct. Assisted suicide is an exempt procedure. We need only an automated order from your physician and your verbal statement requesting the procedure. Please give me your account number, and I can verify your doctor's automated request.
Yes, I replaced another word with 'heck'. :-)
I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.
Was the roundest knight at King Arthur's round table Sir Cumference?
Isn't writing with a broken pencil is pointless?
I imagnine those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.
If you don't pay your exorcist will you get repossessed?
Grandma at 100
Could happen to you....
WHEN I'M 100, IF I LEAN A LITTLE...LET ME !
The family wheeled Grandma out on the lawn, in her wheelchair, where the
activities for her 100th birthday were taking place. Grandma couldn't
speak very well, but she could write notes when she needed to
communicate
After a short time out on the lawn, Grandma started leaning off to the
right, so some family members grabbed her, straightened her up, and
stuffed pillows on her right.
A short time later, she started leaning off to her left, so again the
family grabbed her and stuffed pillows on her left.
Soon she started leaning forward, so the family members again grabbed
her, then tied a pillowcase around her waist to hold her up.
A nephew who arrived late came up to Grandma and said, "Hi, Grandma,
you're looking good! How are they treating you?"
Grandma took out her little notepad and slowly wrote a note to the
nephew...
"They won't let me fart."
A friend sent me this today... (I keep posting pics of animals, and up until a couple of years ago, I didn't even like them.)
Excerpts from a Dog's Daily Diary:
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary:
Day 683 of my captivity:
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling
objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates
and
I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt
for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in
order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my
dream of escape.
In an attempt to disgust them; I once again vomit on the floor. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. The audacity!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.
However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard
that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must
learn
what this means, and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost
successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving
around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow --
but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously void of common sense. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe....... for now...
