Imagine my surprise when I went to Tipler Army Medical Center for a heart bypass operation and discovered my surgeon's name was Dr. Eror.
"What a name for a doctor," I said, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
"Yeah," he agreed. "You can imagine the reaction I got when I was a major."
Jones came into the office an hour late for the third time in one week and found the boss waiting for him.
"What's the story this time, Jones?" he asked sarcastically. "Let's hear a good excuse for a change."
Jones sighed, "Everything went wrong this morning, Boss. My wife decided to drive me to the station. She got ready in ten minutes, but then the drawbridge got stuck. Rather than let you down, I swam across the river, as you can see my suit is still damp, ran out to the airport, got a ride on Mr. Gregson's helicopter, landed on top of his skyscraper, and ran over here."
"You'll have to do better than that, Jones," said the boss, obviously disappointed. "No woman can get ready in ten minutes."
Lord, grant me the strength that I may not fall, Into the clutches of cholesterol.
At polyunsaturates I'll never mutter, For the road to Hell is paved with butter.
And cake is cursed and cream is awful, And Satan is hiding in every waffle.
Beelzebub is a chocolate drop, And Lucifer is a lollipop.
Teach me the evils of hollandaise, Of pasta and globs of mayonnaise.
And crisp fried chicken from the South, Lord, if you love me, shut my mouth.