Actual writings on hospital charts:

1. she has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.

2. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.

3. On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.

4. The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.

5. The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.

A man on a business trip to Las Vegas heard about how good the Las Vegas prostitutes were so on his first night there, he decided he would go out and try his luck.

He walked outside his hotel and looked up and down the street and saw an attractive girl standing on the corner. He approached her and asked her if she is working tonight and sure enough she said "Meet me in room 804 across the street." He was in luck. She was a knockout.
They got to the room and he sat down anxiously on the edge of the bed. She asked him what he wanted and he thought for a second, then said "How much for a hand job?" She said, "300". His eyes popped open and he asked "300?" She said, "Walk over to that window and open the curtains". He proceeded. "See that motel down there? I own it, and I didn't inherit it. I'm that good." He was like, "well go right ahead honey". So she proceeded to give him the best hand job he ever had.

After a little rest he thought, if that was that good...."How much for a blow job?" She said "600". OH MY GOD!! was his reply. She told him to walk back over to the window. "See that 15 story hotel? I own it and I didnt inherit it. I'm that good." He said "Well get to work then sweetie." And sure enough he got the best blow job he ever received.

After a little "rebuilding" time he thought, if that was that good...."How much for sex?" She chuckled and said, "Honey, I'd own this whole damned town if I had a pussy."

This 60 year old woman was walking along 5th Avenue when she heard a voice from above

"You will live to be 100."

She looked around and didn't see anyone. Again she heard "You will live to be 100."

Boy, she thought to herself, that was the voice of God. I've got 40 more years to live!

So off she went to the plastic surgeon. She got everything fixed from head to toe.

When she left the plastic surgeon's office, she got hit by a bus,died, and went up to heaven.

She said to God "You told me I would live to be 100. I was supposed to have had 40 more years.
So how come you let the bus kill me?".

God said: "I didn't recognize you".

Tweet

Crid, how about instead of posting a link to the tweet you just post the tweet itself

Attribution is more than a social media courtesy, Lookoodilly-poodily.

In the internet's roiling, viral, faster-than-light exchange of data and opinion, creators of all types, from rock stars to academics to quipsters, are rightfully concerned about misappropriation: We admire Amy's footnote of "Used with permission" with the photographs and media she shares which weren't obviously cast into the ether for free use, such as YouTube clips or Reason interviews.

Furthermore, in five short years, Twitter has shown itself to be the bearer of particular superpowers in this freewheeling exchange, strengths which apply to humor most especially. As predicted by no one, the 140 character limit has brought a number of sparkling new talents to our attention, blessed spirits who accept "Brevity is the soul of wit" as their Golden Rule. Those talents deserve to have their work seen in the context by which they composed it, rather than have it jostled loose and recreated elsewhere (even with a link or a name-tag), such that those who admire them can personally 'follow' their streams. Sharing the quintessence of internet participation; linking (or page-loading) is a trivial fee.

And y'know, the internet is a funny place! Even when you pave a perfect trail of reasoning, citing earlier considerations with perfect fidelity to context and intent with everything presented on a single webpage for instantaneous review and verification, blithering idiots will crawl sullenly to their keyboards to call you a "liar".

Humor is important. It's the Lord's work. I adore (and often admire) funny people, and even just good-humored ones, more than I love any other kind. They deserve all the credit they can get.

The sting of criticism withers before the power of example. So instead of offering suggestions, why don't you [A] post something better and/or [B] stop reading my comments anyway? No one will care. Everybody wins!

Speaking of shits & giggles, this article made me wonder:

Actually, olestra is safe, but it, uh, kind of got a bum rap in the market.

Has anyone ever tried it? Did you experience, y'know, messy side effects?

Golden, feral and preposterous.

I would KILL the man that did this to me, not marry him. Or maybe marry him, wait for the insurance to kick in, *then* kill him. But seriously, Howey Mandel?!?!?! FFS, who thinks "hmm, I'mma gonna propose, better call Howey Mandel!".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJWlavnM6b0&safety_mode=true&persist_safety_mode=1&safe=active

Lookipoog, see this and the next six tweets.

Specifically this.

Problem is crid your tweet links are kinda hit and miss, more often miss, and I've gone past the point where I care to follow them anymore

Then what POSSIBLE difference could it make?

And again, if you know what you want to read with such certainty, why don't you WRITE it instead of pestering other people for amusement? You're saying you're not going to read my comments anymore right? Ok.

I'm not acctually pestering you for amusement, I was letting you know your choice of tweets usually sucks and I dont want to waste my time clicking a link and waiting for the page to load.

And for a whiney little bitch who complains abut other peple putting words in his mouth, incedentally I think you secretly long for people to shove something else in there, you certianly seems to have no problem doing it yourself

So blow me, asshole