• Skeleton!!!

    The orthopedic surgeon I work for was moving to a new office, and his staff was helping transport many of the items. I sat the display skeleton in the front of my car, his bony arm across the back of my seat.I hadn`t considered the drive across town. At one traffic light, the stares of the people in the car beside me became obvious, and I looked across and explained,
    "I`m delivering him to my doctor`s office."
    The other driver leaned out of his window. "I hate to tell you, lady,"he said, "but I Think It`s *too* late!"
  • Old man woes!

    Old man Murray goes to the doctor with a very worried look on his face.
    "Doctor," he says, "You`ve got to help me. Do you remember those voices in my head I always complain about?"
    "Yes," the doctor replies.
    "Well they`ve suddenly gone away," Murray says.
    "So what`s the problem?"
    "I think I`m going deaf."
  • Acute headache !

    A man who had just undergone a very complicated operation kept complaining about a bump on his head and a terrible headache. Since his operation had been an intestinal one, there was no earthly reason why he should be complaining of a headache.
    Finally his nurse, fearing that the man might be suffering from some post operation shock, spoke to the young surgeon in training about it.
    "Don`t worry about a thing, nurse," the young doctor assured her. "He really does have a bump on his head. About halfway through the operation we ran out of anesthetic."
  • Psychiatrist`s help:

    Shakey went to a psychiatrist. "Doc," he said, "I ve got a trouble. Every time I get into bed, I think there`s somebody under it. I get under the bed; I think there`s somebody on top of it. Top, under, top, under, you got to help me, I`m going crazy!"
    "Just put yourself in my hands for two years," said the shrink. "Come to me three times a week, and I`ll cure your fears."
    "How much do you charge?"
    "A hundred dollars per visit."
    "I`ll sleep on it," said Shakey.
    Six months later the doctor met Shakey on the street.
    "Why didn`t you ever come to see me again?" asked the psychiatrist.
    "For a hundred buck`s a visit? A bartender cured me for ten dollars."
    "Is that so! How?"
    "He told me to cut the legs off the bed!"