Examination Puns

he said, ''I can't find a cause for your complaint. Frankly, I think it's due to drinking.''

''In that case,'' said the patient, ''I'll come back when you're sober''

Doctor: On a scale from 1 to 10, how much pain are you experiencing?

Patient: π

Doctor: pi?

Patient: Low level, but never ending

Doctor - Yes, she was pregnant, but not as a result of my examination.

Taken from an actual court hearing

An uptopsy.

Hines sight is 20/20

He was charged with helping the criminal get a weigh.

It's always, "New Year, new ME"

Its bird-gin-ing research.

After about half an hour the doctor says..."You won't believe this, but i just pulled $1999 out of your bottom"

The man turns around and says "Yeah, I wasn't feeling 2 grand"

At the end, he stopped us outside the test centre.

"You know," I began, "alcohol really impairs someone's judgements..."

The lad's lip quivered, "But I'm not drunk, mister."

"No," I replied, "I am, and you've passed."

"Strangers' Things"

It was a fibula.

A lie-cense.

Every time he examines me, he puts both hands on my shoulders to comfort me.

So they had to cut coroners.

I didn't give a shit.

The lab wouldn't accept furniture anyway.

11.45 : arrived at crime scene

11.45 : Examined body. Signs of struggle

11.45 : Found murder weapon in drain

11.45 : Realised watch was broken

.

.

.

.

.

My son: but this is not a dad joke.

Me : what is a day joke then?

My son : when the joke becomes a(p)parent.

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

Stop! We have you coroner’ed!

It's a murder investigation.

Carved on to the post was some roman-looking words:

TOTI

EMUL

ESTO

After two hours of analysing the words, he was approached by the farmer that owned the field. "What are you looking at chap?" Said the farmer.

"I'm trying to figure out the meaning of the writing on this post... it looks Roman! This could be a great find!" The archaeologist replied.

"Let me take a look" says the farmer as he analyses the carving.

"It says "To tie mules to" you silly twat".

Credit to Stephen Fry on No Such Thing As A Fish podcast

Edit - Formatting

and optimists see glasses as half full.

I said, "You idiot, plate isn't a number."

He said, "Have you got Jack Daniels Honey?"

I said, "We do, but don't call me that."

"Well well well, would you look at the thyme!"

Hope this is the right sub but this is something I need to share. Do not eat peanuts right now, if you do examine them carefully. There has been a fungus that has infected most of the peanut crops in north America. From the outside they look fine but if you bite into the nut you may notice a small black center. By then it's too late. The black center at early stages can cause digestive issues but if the entire nut is black it can cause failure of the nervous system and respiratory complications. There are pests that have laid their eggs in these plants and tiny microorganisms have developed in these plants. They leech into the fruit causing the black color. Ingestion can cause all sorts of troubles from diarrhea to death. These creatures are fatal. That's why you should always watch out for the creature from the black legume.

Once he returned, he said, "I didn't like their politics, but their army Israeli nice."

The doctor examines him, sprinkles salt and spices on him and just like that, he's cured.

The Texas Department of Transportation (TxDOT) found over 200 dead crows on U.S. Highway 281 this past week, and there was concern that they may have died from the Coronavirus.

A veterinary epidemiologist examined the remains of all the crows, and, to everyone's relief, confirmed the problem was NOT Coronavirus (COVID-19).

The cause of death was actually from vehicular impacts. However, during analysis it was noted that varying colors of paints appeared on the bird's beaks and claws. By analyzing these paint residues it was found that 98% of the crows had been killed by impact with motorcycles, while only 2% were killed by cars.

TxDOT then hired an Ornithological Behaviorist to determine if there was a cause for the disproportionate percentages of motorcycle kills versus car kills.

The Ornithological Behaviorist quickly concluded that when crows eat road kill, they always have a look-out crow to warn of danger.

They discovered that while all the lookout crows could shout "Cah", not a single one could shout "bike"!!!

He was quite the cross-examiner.

But catscan.

Because nobody puts baby in a coroner.

No matter how much they tried, the guillotine wouldn't work. When the chief executioner examined the situation it was clear why, she had already been "bee-headed"

The doctor replies "because I'm trying to examine you!"

My wife has left a note on the fridge with the text: "This doesn't work". I examined the refrigerator and it worked, so now I'm waiting for her to come home to explain what she meant

Examination

My dad sent this over on text...

My son came to me the other day asking what I thought he should study in college.

I asked what he thought he wanted to do, he replied he thought about being a Medical Examiner.

Told him he should reconsider as I heard the field was dead.

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

Me: Why?

Doctor: Because I'm trying to examine you.