Humor #468

 When I worked as a medical intern in a local hospital, one of my patients was an elderly man with a thick accent.

It took me some time to understand that he had no insurance coverage.

One thing he had made clear was that he was a World War II veteran, so I had him transported to the Veteran’s Administration hospital, where he’d be eligible for benefits.

The next day my patient was back, with a note from the VA: “Right war, wrong side.”

—–

This guy has been working as a bag boy in a supermarket for five years.

One day the supermarket gets new orange juice machines, and the bag boy is really excited and asks the manager if he can work the juice machines.

The manager says no.

The bagger says, “But I’ve been working here for five years. Why can’t I run the juice machines?”

The manager answers, “I’m sorry, son, but baggers can’t be juicers.”

 —–

 Little Pete came home from the playground with a bloody nose, black eye, and torn clothing. It was obvious he’d been in a bad fight and lost. While his father was patching him up, he asked his son what happened.

“Well, Dad,” said Pete, “ I challenged Larry to a duel. And, you know, I gave him his choice of weapons.”

“Uh-huh,” said the father, “that seems fair.”

“I know, but I never thought he’d choose his sister!”

 —–

A new miracle doctor was in town. He could cure anything and anybody, and everyone was amazed. Everyone except for Mr. Smith, the town’s grouch So Mr. Smith went to this ‘miracle doctor’ to prove that he wasn’t anybody special. So he goes and tells the doctor, “Hey, doc, I have lost my sense of taste. I can’t taste nothing’, so what are you going to do?”

The doctor scratches his head and mumbles to himself a little, then tells Mr. Smith, “What you need is jar number 43.”

Jar number 43? Mr. Smith wonders. So the doctor brings the jar and tells Mr. Smith to taste it. He tastes it and immediately spits it out, “This is gross!” he yells.

I just restored your sense of taste Mr. Smith,” says the doctor.

So Mr. Smith goes home very mad. One month later, Mr. Smith goes back to the doctor along with a new problem, “Doc,” he starts, “I can’t remember!”

Thinking he got the doctor, the doctor scratches his head and mumbles to himself a little and tells Mr. Smith, “What you need is jar number 43…”

Before the doctor finished his sentence, Mr. Smith fled the office.

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