A Country Practice
A young doctor had moved out to a small
to replace a doctor who was
The older doctor suggested that the young one
accompany him on his rounds, so the
could become used to a new doctor.
At the first house a woman complains, "I've
been a little sick to my stomach."
The older doctor says, "Well, you've probably
been overdoing the fresh fruit. Why not cut
back on the amount you've been eating and see
if that does the trick?"
As they left, the younger man said, "You didn't
even examine that woman? How'd you come
to the diagnosis so quickly?"
"I didn't have to. You noticed I dropped my
the floor in there? When I
bent over to pick it up, I noticed a half dozen
peels in the trash. That was what
probably was making her sick."
The younger doctor said "Pretty clever. If you
don't mind, I think I'll try that at the next
Arriving at the next house, they spent several
minutes talking with a younger woman. She
said that she just didn't have
the energy she
once did and said, "I'm feeling terribly run
probably been doing too much for the
Church," the younger doctor told her.
you should cut back a bit and see if
As they left, the elder doctor said, "I know that
woman well. Your diagnosis is almost
certainly correct, she's very active in the
church, but how did you arrive at it?"
"I did what you did at the last house. I
dropped my stethoscope and, when I bent
down to retrieve it, I noticed the vicar under
Jewish Cab Driver
A clearly inebriated woman, stark naked, jumped into
a taxi in New York City and laid down on the back seat.
The cab driver, an old Jewish gentleman, opened his
eyes wide and stared at the woman. He made no attempt
to start the cab.
The woman glared back at him and said, "What's wrong
with you, honey? - Haven't you ever seen a naked
The old Jewish driver answered, "Let me tell you
sumsing, lady – I vasn't staring at you like you
tink; det vould not be proper vair I come from."
The drunk woman giggled and responded, "Well, if
you're not staring at my boobs or ass sweetie, what
are you doing then?"
He paused a moment, then told her..."Vell, M'am,
I am looking and I am looking, and I am tinking
to myself,'Vair in DA hell is dis lady keeping
de money to pay for dis ride?
Now, that's a REAL Businessman!
EATING IN THE FIFTIES (very British)
* Pasta had not been invented.
* Curry was an unknown entity.
* Olive oil was kept in the medicine cabinet
* Spices came from the Middle East where we believed that they were used for embalming
* Herbs were
used to make rather dodgy medicine.
* A Takeaway was a mathematical problem.
* A Pizza was something to do with a leaning tower.
* Bananas and oranges only appeared at Christmas time.
* The only vegetables known to us were spuds, peas,
carrots and cabbage, anything else was regarded as being a bit suspicious.
* All crisps were plain; the only choice we had was whether to put the salt on or not.
* Condiments consisted of salt, pepper, vinegar and brown sauce if we were lucky.
* Soft drinks were called pop.
* Coke was something that we mixed with coal to make it last longer.
* A Chinese chippy was a foreign carpenter.
* Rice was a milk pudding, and never ever part of our dinner.
* A Big Mac was what we wore
when it was raining.
* A Pizza Hut was an Italian shed.
* Spaghetti was a small town in Bolognese.
* A microwave was something out of a science fiction movie.
* Brown bread was something only posh people ate.
* Oil was for lubricating
your bike not for cooking, fat was for cooking
* Bread and jam was a punishment.
* Tea was made in a teapot using tea leaves, not bags.
* The tea cosy was the forerunner of all the energy saving devices that we hear so much about today.
Tea had only one colour, black. Green tea etc. Was not British.
* Coffee was only drunk when we had no tea.
* Cubed sugar was regarded as a bit of an over kill.
* Figs and dates appeared every Christmas, but no one ever ate them.
and confectionery were called toffees.
* Coconuts only appeared when the fair came to town.
* Black puddings were mined in Bolton Lancashire.
* Jellied eels were peculiar to Londoners.
* Salad cream was a dressing for salads, mayonnaise
did not exist
* Hors d'oeuvre was a spelling mistake.
* The starter was our main meal.
* Soup was a main meal.
* The menu consisted of what we were given and was set in stone
* Only Heinz made beans, any others were impostors
Leftovers went in the dog.
* Special food for dogs and cats was unheard of.
* Sauce was either brown or red.
* Fish was only eaten on Fridays.
* Fish didn't have fingers in those days.
* Eating raw fish was called poverty, not sushi.
* Ready meals only came from the fish and chip shop.
* For the best taste fish and chips had to be eaten out of old newspapers.
* Frozen food was called ice cream.
* Nothing ever went off in the fridge because we never had one.
cream only came in one colour and one flavour.
* None of us had ever heard of yogurt.
* Jelly and blancmange was only eaten at parties.
* If we said that we were on a diet, we simply got less (more for us).
* Healthy food consisted of anything
* Healthy food had to have the ability to stick to your ribs.
* Calories were mentioned but they had nothing at all to do with food.
* The only criteria concerning the food that we ate were, did we like it and could we afford it.
* People who didn't peel potatoes were regarded as lazy so and so’s.
* Indian restaurants were only found in India .
* A seven course meal had to last a week.
* Brunch was not a meal.
* Cheese only came in a hard lump.
we had eaten bacon lettuce and tomato on the same sandwich we would have been certified
* A bun was a small cake back then.
* A tart was a fruit filled pastry, not a lady of horizontal pleasure.
* The word" Barbie" was not associated with anything
to do with food
* Eating outside was called a picnic.
* Cooking outside was called camping.
* Seaweed was not a recognised source of food.
* Offal was only eaten when we could afford it.
* Eggs only came fried or boiled.
cross buns were only eaten at Easter time.
* Pancakes were only eaten on Pancake Tuesday, in fact in those days it was compulsory.
* "Kebab" was not even a word never mind a food.
* Hot dogs were a type of sausage that only the Americans ate.
* Cornflakes had arrived from America but it was obvious that they would never catch on.
* The phrase "boil in the bag" would have been beyond our realms of comprehension.
* The idea of "oven chips" would not have made any sense at all to us.
* The world had not yet benefited from weird and wonderful things like Pot Noodles, Instant Mash and Pop Tarts.
* We bought milk and cream at the same time in the same bottle.
* Sugar enjoyed a good press in those days, and was regarded as being
* Lettuce and tomatoes in winter were just a rumour.
* Most soft fruits were seasonal except perhaps at Christmas.
* Prunes were medicinal.
* Surprisingly muesli was readily available in those days, it was called cattle feed.
* Turkeys were definitely seasonal.
* Pineapples came in chunks in a tin; we had only ever seen a picture of a real one.
* We didn't eat Croissants in those days because we couldn't pronounce them, we couldn't spell them and we didn't know what
* We thought that Baguettes were a serious problem the French needed to deal with.
* Garlic was used to ward off vampires, but never used to flavour bread.
* Water came out of the tap, if someone had suggested bottling it and charging
treble for it they would have become a laughing stock.
* Food hygiene was all about washing your hands before meals.
* Campylobacter, Salmonella, E.coli, Listeria, and botulism were all called "Food poisoning."
* The one thing that we never
ever had on our table in the fifties, "Elbows"!
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone
you don't know, but you know deserves it.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make.
I found the number and dialled it.
A man answered, saying 'Hello.'
I politely said, ‘This
is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?'
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear 'Get the right f***ing number!' and the phone was slammed down on me.
I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
When I tracked
down Robyn 's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled 'You're an
asshole!' and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.
Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, 'You're an asshole!'
It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, 'Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if
you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?'
He yelled 'NO!' and slammed down the phone.
I quickly called him back and said, 'That's because you're an asshole!' and hung up..
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull
into a parking Spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for.
I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me.
I noticed a 'For Sale ' sign
in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole
(I had his number on speed dial,)
I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too.
I said, 'Is this the man with
the black BMW for sale?'
He said, 'Yes, it is..'
I then asked, 'Can you tell me where I can see it?'
He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax .. It's a yellow ranch style house and the car's parked right out in
I asked, 'What's your name?'
He said, 'My name is Don Hansen,'
I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Don?'
He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.'
I said, 'Listen, Don, can I tell you
He said, 'Yes?'
I said, 'Don, you're an asshole!'
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.
Then I came up with an idea...
I called asshole #1.
He said, 'Hello.'
I said, 'You're an asshole!' (But I didn't hang up.)
He asked, 'Are you still there?'
I said, 'Yeah!'
He screamed, 'Stop calling me,'
I said, 'Make
He asked, 'Who are you?'
I said, 'My name is Don Hansen.'
He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?'
I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , a yellow ranch style home and I have a black Beamer parked
He said, 'I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.'
I said, 'Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole,' and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2.
He said, 'Hello?'
I said, 'Hello, asshole,'
He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...'
I said, 'You'll what?'
He exclaimed, 'I'll kick your ass,'
I answered, 'Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.'
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 7 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd
in Fairfax ..
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax ..
I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
NOW I feel much better.
Anger management really does work.
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem. Its quality
and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around
the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit ..
. . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . .
A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy
of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I
have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ...
. . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . .
. . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your
eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
Remember this poem when you next
meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.We
will all, one day, be there, too!
PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM!
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched.
They must be felt by the heart!