Boy Do We Need Our Thumbs
This week, I mashed my left thumb between two big truck drums at work. These ladies weigh about 150 pounds each, and when I caught my little handdick between them, it screamed, and gushed blood, till it could gush no more. I hate to gush.
I took the thumb to the worker's comp doctor (somehow I see this as a future "public option" when the bosses start adding on extras to DeathCare) and he patched it up, stroked it, put a little dress on it, kissed it and made it all better, and told me to get back to work, some more truck drums were coming in.
It really hurt for about two days, but since it was my left thumb and not my main one, I was able to...well, I was..well for Christ sake, you figure it out. I could still have thumb parties with my useful handdick, so all was not lost. Though I did lose some seeds.
Yesterday, the doctor (who somehow, miraculously, was the SAME one I saw on Monday...the day of the tragedy) and he said I was good to go, and gave me a penny for the gumball machine after my haircut.
I like these little "Doc In The Box" places where you can go for little hurtin's, but I have been there before, and it is quite like I have never been there before. You know the look. "Who the hell are you, what are you doing here, fill out this exact same form you filled out yesterday, and sit in that non-assable chair for a couple of hours. Then, if we can squeeze your shit in, baby, maybe the doctor will see you. Or maybe you'll die. Your call, bitch".
If we can't stop the DeathCare express from gathering even more steam, then I expect we'll all have our own little doc in the box.
What DO they call someone who finishes last in medical school?
Next time: If I die, call my Mom.
Joe
I took the thumb to the worker's comp doctor (somehow I see this as a future "public option" when the bosses start adding on extras to DeathCare) and he patched it up, stroked it, put a little dress on it, kissed it and made it all better, and told me to get back to work, some more truck drums were coming in.
It really hurt for about two days, but since it was my left thumb and not my main one, I was able to...well, I was..well for Christ sake, you figure it out. I could still have thumb parties with my useful handdick, so all was not lost. Though I did lose some seeds.
Yesterday, the doctor (who somehow, miraculously, was the SAME one I saw on Monday...the day of the tragedy) and he said I was good to go, and gave me a penny for the gumball machine after my haircut.
I like these little "Doc In The Box" places where you can go for little hurtin's, but I have been there before, and it is quite like I have never been there before. You know the look. "Who the hell are you, what are you doing here, fill out this exact same form you filled out yesterday, and sit in that non-assable chair for a couple of hours. Then, if we can squeeze your shit in, baby, maybe the doctor will see you. Or maybe you'll die. Your call, bitch".
If we can't stop the DeathCare express from gathering even more steam, then I expect we'll all have our own little doc in the box.
What DO they call someone who finishes last in medical school?
Next time: If I die, call my Mom.
Joe
posted by Mr. Liberty at 8:19 AM
2 Comments:
Boy, do we ever!
I bet it's hard to hitchhike without the old thumbs.
Of course you could just still flash your killer...legs.
I still have my big toes.
However, they don't stink nice enough.
Joe
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