Random Humorous Things - A Light-Hearted Thread

[BrianSoddingBoru4]

As the son of a career nurse, I can testify that this is accurate:



Boru

[The Valkyrie]

As the son of a career nurse, I can testify that this is accurate:



Boru

Yup.

Don't fuck with the nursing staff.

[BrianSoddingBoru4]

Boru

[onlinebiker]

As the son of a career nurse, I can testify that this is accurate:



Boru

Yup.

Don't fuck with the nursing staff.

Or the guy cooking your dinner.....

Unless you WANT to eat somebody else' s boogers.......

[Angrboda]

Nothing wrong with cooked boogers. They just need to be cooked to a safe temperature to guard against booger-borne illness.

[A. Secular Human]

As the son of a career nurse, I can testify that this is accurate:



Boru

Yup.

Don't fuck with the nursing staff.

Because much like who we lovingly call "the support staff" at pretty much any institution, they're the ones that actually run the show.

I *always* made it a primary goal to get to know the "support staff" before bothering with the mucky-mucks anywhere I've worked.  It pays dividends.

When I was a high school physics and chemistry teacher, my best friends were the custodial and office staff.  My students never wanted for *anything*, and I relished telling them why.  It was a life-lesson teachable moment.

[The Architect Of Fate]

[Fake Messiah]

[A. Secular Human]

"He wore an itsy-bitsy teenie weenie"...nuff said.

[Rev. Rye]

I think this might be the most valuable guitar in the world. Why? Because it was made out of the most valuable thing in the world.


See if you can guess what I'm talking about without needing it explained to you.

---

. Three, evidently Mrs. Fedder has been haunted for days by my remark at dinner one night that I'd like to be a dead cat. She asked me at dinner last week what I intended to do after I got out of the Army. Did I intend to resume teaching at the same college? Would I go back to teaching at all? Would I consider going back on the radio, possibly as a 'commentator' of some kind? I answered that it seemed to me that the war might go on forever, and that I was only certain that if peace ever came again I would like to be a dead cat. Mrs. Fedder thought I was cracking a joke of some kind. A sophisticated joke. She thinks I'm very sophisticated, according to Muriel. She thought my deadly-serious comment was the sort of joke one ought to acknowledge with a light, musical laugh. When she laughed, I suppose it distracted me a little, and I forgot to explain to her. I told Muriel tonight that in Zen Buddhism a master was once asked what was the most valuable thing in the world, and the master answered that a dead cat was, because no one could put a price on it. M. was relieved, but I could see she could hardly wait to get home to assure her mother of the harmlessness of my remark. She rode to the station with me in the cab. How sweet she was, and in so much better humor. She was trying to teach me to smile, spreading the muscles around my mouth with her fingers.

---