*dad joke
Sorry. It was a Type O
But in Germany, it's the wurst.
At least he told us to be positive.
I had an elderly patient today who was visibly upset, almost to the point of tears. I asked her if she was worried about having her blood drawn and she said that the blood draw didn’t bother her, but that she was upset because she had hit a cat with her car on the way to her appointment this morning. She said that she didn’t know who the cat belonged to and that she had it wrapped up in a blanket in her car. I asked her how badly the cat was hurt and she said “I think he’s going to be alright. I just clipped the hind end of him, but his tail is just barely hanging on. After I leave here, I’m taking him straight to Wal-Mart.”
I told her that she might be better off taking the cat to a veterinary clinic instead of Wal-Mart and she said, “but it’s just his tail, and Wal-Mart is the largest retailer in North America!”
Because she had bad blood
Because she’s got BAD BLOOD....🎼
-
I asked my blood type ( genuinely didn't know it). When they said A Positive, I mused, "that must explain why I'm such a positive guy.” ( got a pretty good chuckle from those in the room)
-
They realized I didn't need oxygen and hauled the tank out of the room. I uttered, "tanks for nothing!" (got a bigger chuckle)
Not the greatest puns ever, but not bad for just coming out of general anesthetic :)
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
Because she has bad blood
So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.
I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"
Then I start crying.
So my sister is pregnant and very pessimistic from being very pregnant. They're discussing blood types at the dinner table and I walk in mid conversation.
Bro-in-law: "You are A negative, and I am trying to B positive."
My sister started crying, I think because the joke was so bad.
She HAS BAD BLOOD
She HAS BAD BLOOD
Because she had bad blood.
I work in a medical lab. I had an elderly patient today who was visibly upset, almost to the point of tears. I asked her if she was worried about having her blood drawn and she said that the blood draw didn’t bother her, but that she was upset because she had hit a cat with her car on the way to her appointment this morning. She said that she didn’t know who the cat belonged to and that she had it wrapped up in a blanket in her car. I asked her how badly the cat was hurt and she said “I think he’s going to be alright. I just clipped the hind end of him, but his tail is just barely hanging on. After I leave here, I’m taking him straight to Wal-Mart.”
I told her that she might be better off taking the cat to a veterinary clinic instead of Wal-Mart and she said, “but it’s just his tail, and Wal-Mart is the largest retailer in North America!”
