Monday, August 18, 2008

When I think about you

Once again, Evil Twin causes me to aspirate my lunch. Damn her!

She writes:
My well-woman appointment was this morning. Since I moved last time I never got a GYN, just used the trusty family practitioner. Actually, this was not a sacrifice, since he's as cute as a spotted pup. Usual scene, waiting in the paper gown, making sure the mini-blinds are TOTALLY closed, humming along with the classic rock station -- "Hits of the Eighties, Nineties and TODAY!".

Dr. A and his trusty 50ish nurse enter and proceed to conduct the preliminaries, lung/heart/lymph/tongue check, it was time to *slide on down*. This is where I usually count the holes in the acoustic ceiling tiles.

Dr. A begins his routine, slippery goo tube in hand. Softly from the overhead speaker wafts...
I love myself I want you to love me...
(Oh-h-h no...)
When I feel down I want you above me...
(I don't believe this!)
I search myself I want you to find me...
I forget myself I want you to remind me...
I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself...
I look over at the nurse, and she looks me right in the eye. We tried, but there was no way we could deny what was happening. She cracked a smile, and I swear, I tried, but I snorked so loud that the speculum popped right out. Poor Dr. A was clueless. I guess he was still in med school in 1991, hopefully hitting the books too hard.

He looked at me. Was the goo too cold? Did I have the hiccups? The nurse pointed to the speaker, and he pauses for a moment and slowly turns the color of an eggplant.

Poor guy.

She has got to be more careful with that thing. She could'a put someone's eye out.


  1. Yikes. Good thing you have a sense of humor.

  2. Oh, boy. Just the story I wanted to hear before I go in for my exam.

    I can't stop laughing. Thanks!

  3. Wow that's a funny story, less of a women would have called a lawyer from her care.

  4. Oh my... that is the most freakin' hilarious thing I've heard all day. My appointment is in 2 weeks. Ugh.


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