In Game: vs. Loyola Chicago
Posted: Tue Mar 05, 2024 2:45 pm
On February 29, I did a one-hour comedy set at "High Point Trousers," a combination men's retail clothing store and bar that is owned by my eldest son. It was well-attended and people seemed to have a good time hearing me tell many of the same stories I related in this season's thread starters. My cardiologist was in attendance and came up to me afterward, saying that as a doctor, he had lots of stories that were hilarious to him and his fellow physicians, but probably not palatable for the general public's consumption. I asked for an example; he gave me two.
The first story involved a not unattractive, middle-aged woman who was in for a simple noninvasive procedure but it did require him to hook up some leads for monitoring her heart. Without any prompting from my friend, she suddenly dropped her hospital gown to her waist, exposing her breasts. They were tattooed; on one breast was written "Sweet" and on the other "Sour." As he was calling for the nurse to get into the room STAT to avoid any appearance of impropriety, he asked what those words meant, given the context of their location. She coyly replied, "Why don't you find out?"
The second story involved a woman who was morbidly obese, weighing in excess of 500 pounds. Before he entered the room to examine her, the nursing staff said they were concerned about a persistent foul odor coming from her person. Not body odor from excessive sweat, or even a fungal infection, but something far worse: she smelled dead. He entered the examining room and there was no mistaking it: something within that gargantuan mass of fatty flesh was in an advanced state of necrosis. He began to look around and soon found the source. Buried deep within a fold of belly flesh was a dead cat. A small cat, to be sure, but definitely a cat. He extracted the furry corpse and displayed it in front of the lady. She exclaimed, "Well I be. I wondered where that cat had gotten to."
May our team not stink like a dead cat in this final home game! GO CATS!
The first story involved a not unattractive, middle-aged woman who was in for a simple noninvasive procedure but it did require him to hook up some leads for monitoring her heart. Without any prompting from my friend, she suddenly dropped her hospital gown to her waist, exposing her breasts. They were tattooed; on one breast was written "Sweet" and on the other "Sour." As he was calling for the nurse to get into the room STAT to avoid any appearance of impropriety, he asked what those words meant, given the context of their location. She coyly replied, "Why don't you find out?"
The second story involved a woman who was morbidly obese, weighing in excess of 500 pounds. Before he entered the room to examine her, the nursing staff said they were concerned about a persistent foul odor coming from her person. Not body odor from excessive sweat, or even a fungal infection, but something far worse: she smelled dead. He entered the examining room and there was no mistaking it: something within that gargantuan mass of fatty flesh was in an advanced state of necrosis. He began to look around and soon found the source. Buried deep within a fold of belly flesh was a dead cat. A small cat, to be sure, but definitely a cat. He extracted the furry corpse and displayed it in front of the lady. She exclaimed, "Well I be. I wondered where that cat had gotten to."
May our team not stink like a dead cat in this final home game! GO CATS!
