Category: Season 3


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

Wedding talk! Ohh, how lovely! — Listen, Hilton sisters: Mr. Quinn in 206 still has a severely shattered clavicle and he needs a surgical consult now. And, seeing as he’s your patient, and you’re a surgeon, gosh, I was hoping that if you two hens have an extra moment between choosing centerpieces and deciding just exactly how you’re gonna attach that veil onto Baldy’s head, well, it would just be super-de-duper if you could peek in in there and give him the old lookie-loo; wouldn’t it?


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

All right, I’m sure you’re wondering why I accepted the position of residency director considering my disdain for, well…all of you. Is it the extra four dollars a week in my paycheck? Or is it the fact that I finally have a chance to make a difference in this God-forsaken hell-hole.


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

I–I know what you’re thinking, believe me, I…I do: Why in the world would a civilized, up-town man of the millennium such as myself even go ahead and give a good rat’s ass about whether a bunch of snot-nosed baby docs were afraid of him. Right? Well, unfortunately the only way I know how to teach is through fear.


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

Then for the last time, don’t stick any part of your hairless body into my business. Trust me, there is nothing for you to gain from it. Because even if you went on a cruise to the most remote regions of the ocean and rescued my drowning, salt-soaked body in time to pump the sea water out of my lungs and bring me back from the brink of death, I would STILL be upset that the first face I saw was yours!


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

Here’s a story: It’s called The Security Guard Who Was Sodomized With His Own Nightstick.


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

Since the baby came along we’ve been fighting less and less.


Filed under: Quips,Season 3 — DRK @

I mean, come on, Jordan, you haven’t let me make one decision about our son. Which is why, by the way, you’ll be doing the answering when he asks why daddy’s wee-wee doesn’t have a turtleneck on it like his.


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

It’s all about the four dollars, trust me. And seeing as my money is contingent on you lemmings actually doing your jobs, I would say that now is a pretty good time for you to scurry on back to work so that I can continue to afford the antidepressants that keep me so damn jolly.


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

Beyoncé, you could use a lot of help. But, hey, we all have to play the hand the Big Guy dealt us. You know, unless you’re lucky enough to have those insanely over-hyped ‘Queer Eye’ guys show up at your door, but I doubt even they have the brass ones necessary to fix whatever the hell this is.


Filed under: Season 3 — DRK @

Look, Carol, I know you think you look dashing in your navy blue scrubs, but I can’t deal with the fact that I walk into the front door of this place and I find you standing there taaaalking at me.

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