Sunday, July 15, 2007

Two Bads

Bad 1:

Patient: Doctor, I think I'm a moth. Can you help me?

Dr.: You think you're a moth?

Patient: Yes. Can you help me?

Dr.: Well, I'm just a general practioner. You need to see a psychiatrist.

Patient: I know that, Sir. In fact, I was on my way to the psychiatrist's office when I saw your light.

Bad 2:

Old feller is in bed upstairs, about to die.

From below comes the aroma of home-made chocolate chip cookies baking.

He says to himself, "Before I go, I'm going to have one last chocolate chip cookie", and he painfully crawls out of bed, down the stairs, into the kitchen, and reaches his hand up to grab a cookie from the cooling rack on the kitchen table.

WHAPP!!! A spatula hits his outstretched hand. "You let that thing go, Hiram!" his wife demands. "Those are for the funeral!"

2 comments:

Sean said...

you're right. they're both bad :-)

Paul said...

So bad.