Maybe you could swing by our parts department and pick up a pair of testes?

Or…maybe you could pressure him, get dumped, throw on fifty pounds, start collecting knick-knacks and meet your future now. You know…before the loneliness burns too much? Wooooo-ohhhhh! Gosh, I did enjoy that!

Fine, let him go to church. I mean, I let him go to magic shows. I’ll just tell him it’s all a lie when he gets home so he doesn’t have any of those crazy nightmares.

Everyone, this is my sister, Paige. Paige, I’d like you to meet random people I don’t care about.

Could I speak with you in the stop filling my patient’s head with false hope” ward?”

Well, I suppose it’s because when Jordan was pregnant, I mentally prepared myself for her giving birth to something green and…slimy.

There-there are actually many things in life that I’ve yet to figure out, like why men wear cellphones on their belt when they could so easily fit them in their pocket mere millimeters away. Or why – and I’m not complaining – women wear tube-tops even though every ten seconds it makes them do this: […]

Hate to burst your bubble, there, Barbie, but your endocrinology fellowship lasted all of five days. Granted, to you, five days may seem like an eternity seeing as it’s roughly five times as long as any of your white, pasty relationships have lasted. But trust me, that hardly makes you an expert.

Because I told him to. And I know what you’re thinking, Dorothy: Why would I have your intern call you in on one of your very precious days off for something so gosh-darn trivial? Well, the real question ought to be, Why when you were an intern did you call me in time after time […]

Now I’m going to check on Mr. Jenkins, your war hero. I feel he, too, deserves a competent doctor. In fact, I’m gonna take all of your patients and consequently your only reason for getting out of that lacy, over-pillowed four-poster virgin cocoon you call a bed every morning.