Category: Rants

Oh, hello, and welcome to McSurgeon’s. May I take your order? Yeah, I was thinking about getting a simple operation with no unexpected complications, please?” Oh, gosh, here I’m sorry, we’re fresh out of those. But! If you have a child, maybe you’d like to try one of our Infection Meals! That’ll be seven thousand dollars, please pay at the second window.”

I just can’t believe how comfortable I’ve gotten talking to you over these last few months. I mean, look, I’d still be with my old shrink if I hadn’t cut across the park the day of the renaissance faire and realized that the man I tell my innermost secrets to likes to…likes to put on a big, giant beard and make pretend that he is a blacksmith.

Morning, class. As residency director, it is my pleasure to have both Surgical and Medical personnel here with us today. In fact, in this room we have enough brain power to light up a city! Not a real city, mind you, but definitely a tiny ant city whose government has recently passed a series of stringent energy conservation laws!

I didn’t do anything. No yelling, no breaking stuff, nothing. And right then, I figured out what’s different. I figured out what that feeling was that I was having in the park the other day with my family. I’m…happy. Now does that not just make you sick?

Oh, that’s just dandy. I got a billion patients and no rooms, and I got Newbie pestering me for advice on how to be the best woman at Turtlehead’s wedding, and I got a resident who can’t do a simple procedure even though she learned it the first week she was here.

Here’s the tour: This is where the patients enter, upstairs is where they go to die, and down in the basement is where we slide their cold, dead bodies into the wall. Oh, and that’s the gift shop.

Yes, Newbie, I’m having a tough day. And of course I’d love to head home, but Jordan’s satanic brood has taken over my apartment and no man in his right mind would dare enter that place.

May I ask you something, there, Judy? Do you have any idea what it’s like to have three angry, under-fed women tear you several new ones for a full hour?

Well done, there, Bobbo. When my patients ask me where I was all afternoon, I’ll just tell them I was too busy attending this ridiculous chat-fest with you and Dr. What’s-He-Over-Compensating-For? here.

who in God’s name wants to hear that every day?! Good morning.” In the immortal words of Daffy Duck: I demand that you shoot me now.”