Category: Season 2

If I’m not back in twenty minutes, I don’t want you to worry because it simply means I drove by a prostitute on the way home.

in the history of medicine, there’s never actually been a patient that depressing. I made it up! Come on, now, Barbie; you keep going down this road, you’re gonna go up to the roof of this hospital and jump the hell off. Mind you, it’s only five stories high, so that means you’ll just wind up back down here, where I, of course, will be the one who has to treat you, and then I’ll be forced to jump off the roof of this hospital, which, as I was suggesting to you, is only five stories high, and are you starting to see a pattern forming here?

I guess you could take over the master bathroom. But, would you do me a favor and leave my sleeping pills out in case, when I get home, I want to take 300 of them?

Oh, ho, ho, ho, Scooby! A married woman whose husband is still in a coma? Hoo, hoo! Can’t tell you how many happy couples I know who got started just that way.

Barbie, as long as you stay and work at this hospital, I’m always gonna be your superior…. That’s just the way it goes. Don’t get me wrong, you can keep trying to connect with me; I mean, hell, you’re…you’re so damn entertaining you just might make some head-way. But still, you might be better served — and, this is a crazy notion — if you could stop worrying so much about who does and doesn’t notice…you. Even for a second…that’d be good; that’d be real good.

Well, of course, that could be because he’s shaving his dome so much lately that the hair is actually starting to grow inward — it’s an affliction commonly known as the infro.””

Word to the wise, there, Astro: Sarcasm does not sit well with the Big Dog, so consider this a warning. Because the next time I hear you mumble some snarky little passive-aggressive aside, I’m going to look into your heart, pick out your greatest insecurity, and shine the world’s brightest spotlight on it for the remainder of your natural-born days. Now, riddle me this, Fido: Just exactly why does every Asian person who’s passing us by in the hallway, here, keep giving you the old stink-eye?

Listen closely, Tiny Dancer: I wouldn’t be flapping my mouth if I’d forgotten to get a blood culture on Mr. Blair. And, for the love of God, do you at least remember what you were doing the day they were passing out common sense? Oh, gosh, maybe you were running late that day ’cause you just couldn’t find the right thong for those low-rider jeans that you love so much, or maybe you were busy bopping along to whatever boy band really makes your heart race nowadays, and you just drove on by. ‘Course, I don’t know, I’m just guessing, but one things’ sure-shootin’: you wound up at the dumb-dumb store and you just went ahead and put so much of that into the car that you could fit, didn’t ya?

What that yellow-bellied scalpel jock should have done was to go down to Surgery and schedule himself for an early morning add-a-pair-tomy. That way, if it took, he’d have the stones to at least come and talk to you next time he had a problem.

Listen, there, Flowers: I know that your pink scrubs are balled up at the base of Barbie’s bed three nights a week – and congrats on that, really – but if you’re gonna go ahead and have a show-down with everyone who hassles her, then, gosh, you two aren’t gonna have any time for that sweet, Aryan sex that you love so much!