Sure, she’s a famous model now, but when she was a teenager, she was crowned Miss Connect The Dots of the Schenectady Summer Fair.
Worst case of acne you could possibly imagine.
She tried every cream, treatment, and torture imaginable.
None of them worked.
Do you ever wash your face?
Don’t eat so much chocolate.
Go easy on that greasy food.
Humiliated, she ran away from home.
Today, she’s in hundreds of magazines and catalogs.
Oh, her face is still a mess. More hideous than Medusa herself.
But then, who needs a pretty face when you’re a famous hand model?
Tag: medical
Bottled Up
Bob’s analyst told him not to keep his feelings bottled up.
So, Bob stopped bottling them up, and he put them in cans.
He forgot to heat them to kill the bacteria, and he ended up sick.
Then he tried dehydrating his feelings, but people accused him of being jerky to them.
Freeze-drying his feelings left him feeling cold.
“Why not just leave them fresh?” I said.
“They’re just too raw,” said Bob.
So, he went back to bottling his feelings up.
He had to get new bottles, though. I’d turned the old ones in to collect the deposit.
President Spider
The doctor says I need to face my fear.
So, I think about my biggest fear.
Heights.
I don’t like heights.
I get scared in glass elevators and standing at railings.
I worry about falling over. I feel like I’m falling.
Then I realize… I’m even more afraid of spiders.
They totally creep me out, with their beady little eyes and hairy little legs.
And the fangs… so gross!
The doctor says “What about spiders in high places?”
What? Like the White House?
A spider becoming president? President Spider?
Scary, sure, but he’s served two terms and can’t run again.
Myoelectric
Myoelectric: Sensors pick up signals and translate them into motor control.
Signals from the periphery go to the brain as sensory information.
We can replace missing limbs this way.
Let’s take Bob here as an example.
Hello, Bob. Open your hand.
Now close it.
No, don’t fire the rocket launcher.
Oops. That’s okay, Bob.
Put your hand over your mouth and you’re sorry.
No, not the chainsaw. Hand. Over mouth.
Okay, Bob, just sit still.
It looks like we got things wired up wrong.
Everybody, please leave the room quickly.
No, not you, Bob. Stay there.
And sit very still.
Penalty Yards
I lay here in my bed, surrounded by family and friends, having lived the best life I could possibly imagine.
I worked hard at everything I did.
I took every opportunity I could find.
I was honest and fair to all.
If I had it to do all over again, I would not change a thing.
I feel my heart beating slower… slower… slower…
And a bright yellow rag hits me in the face.
A clear and steady voice said: “Holding… your mother… ten yards… replay first down.”
I blinked, and looked around.
Bright lights… a doctor’s face…
I screamed.
Max
Max is five years old, and he can heal machines.
No, he can’t explain how they work. But when he puts his hands on a machine and closes his eyes, the machine starts working again.
Blenders. Dishwashers. Lamps.
He even healed a motorcycle, but that took a lot out of him, so we gave him a fruit juice box, and let him nap in the corner for a while.
We took him to the train museum once, and he touched a steam train.
The whistle screamed to life as Max collapsed.
Two week coma.
We go to the zoo now.
Control
I don’t know what’s more embarrassing… losing control of your bowels in a movie theater or losing control of your bowels in a courtroom.
When you lose control of them in a movie theater, okay, you make a mess in your pants and the seat, but all it takes is a mop and a steam-cleaner and everything’s as good as new.
But when you lose control of them in a courtroom, well, you have to file an appeal, pay the lawyer again, and make sure you get a judge who doesn’t think you don’t deserve custody of your own asshole.
Ho Ho Hock Up A Lung
So, you got sick over the holidays?
Color me shocked. I’m not surprised.
I told you to boil and sterilize any and all Santas before sitting in their laps, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! you just had to tell Santa what you wanted right there and then without taking precautions… gah, you fool!
Wouldn’t even wear a big plastic trashbag or put down tissue-paper.
Sure enough, you catch the Santacrud.
It’s the third-leading disease of the holidays, right after drowning in wassail and choking on sugarplums! We must raise awareness! We-
We’re under mistletoe?
Go get a step ladder. I’ll take it down.
Forget Things
Hi. I’m sorry. I forget things. More things every day.
I know this because I write things down.
“Write things down,” said Rose.
I have that on my writing pad on the top.
Who’s Rose?
She’s the one who told me to write things down. It says so right here.
She also told me to write down “Never be afraid” and “Do what people tell you.”
And “Write things down.”
What is my name?
I don’t know.
Look at my wrist?
There’s a tattoo.
A rose.
Me?
I should write that down.
Before I…
Hi. I’m sorry. I forget things.
Unhappy New Year
Due to a logistical error, the Baby New Year ended up in the womb of a crack-smoking teen runaway in Boise, Idaho, and he was born two months premature.
It caught the world completely off guard.
Not only did everything really suck for a while as the unhealthy year struggled to survive inside its incubator, but companies shed hundreds of thousands of jobs because the whole Christmas shopping season was lost.
“We’ll make Valentine’s Day the big shopping day!” they said, but there’s only so many chocolates and edible panties the market can bear.
Here’s hoping next year’s better, friends.