Realizing at the last minute that it was his father's birthday, a teenage boy rushed to the corner store to grab a card.
He quickly found a son-to-father card but neglected to read it carefully. Later when his father opened his gifts, he was surprised to read aloud, "Happy birthday to a wonderful Dad. Now that I'm a father too . . ."
Politically correct terms for cat owners:
- My cat does not barf hairballs, he is a floor/rug re-decorator.
- My cat does not break things, she helps gravity do its job.
- My cat does not fear dogs, they are merely sprint practice tools.
- My cat does not gobble, she eats with alacrity.
- My cat does not scratch, he is a furniture/rug/skin ventilator.
- My cat is not a "shedding machine," she is a hair relocation stylist.
- My cat is not a "treat-seeking missile," she enjoys the proximity of food.
- My cat is not a chatterbox, she is advising me on what to do next.
- My cat is not a dope addict, she is catnip appreciative.
- My cat is not a ruthless hunter, she is a wildlife control expert.
- My cat is not evil, she is badness enhanced.
- My cat is not fat, he is mass enhanced.
- My cat is not hydrophobic, she has an inability to appreciate moisture.
- My cat is not underfoot, she is shepherding me to my next destination
(which should always be the food dish).
Wanting to have a quick love-making session, the couple told their 8-year-old son to go stand on the balcony with a popsicle and to report to them all the neighborhood activities. He began his commentary as his parents put their plan into action.
"There's a car being towed from the parking lot," he shouted. A few moments passed.
"An ambulance just drove by." A few moments later, "Looks like the Anderson's have company," he called out. "Matt's riding a new bike."
A few moments later, "Looks like the Sanders are moving... and Jason is on his skate board." A few more moments, "The Coopers are having sex."
Startled, his mother and dad shot up in bed. Dad cautiously called out, "How do you know they are having sex?"
"Because Jimmy Cooper is standing on his balcony with a popsicle too."
I’m a registered nurse, not a doctor, but here’s the story:
Patient was a newly diagnosed diabetic who needed to be taught how to inject insulin. So the diabetes educator did the good old routine of taking an orange, drawing up insulin, then injecting it into the orange. He then made the patient repeat this practice routine a few times.
The patient goes home, etc. He comes back in a week and his blood sugar is out of control. They ask him if he's been taking his insulin and he goes "of course." So they decide to ask him to demonstrate how he injects insulin. The patient goes "sure, I just need an orange."
At this point I started face palming hard because I know where this one is heading. But of course they got him a orange and a vial of insulin with a syringe. So the guy draws up the insulin correctly, takes the syringe, injects it into the orange, and then says "and then I eat the orange."