I really didn’t have a choice.
Cody and I don’t have insurance. We go to the teaching hospital on the school’s campus if we need any medical attention.
Did you know that the next generation of doctors are a bunch of smokin’ fine hotties?
Neither did I until I had to go in and inquire about a particularly embarrassing feminine issue.
“Well hello Mrs. Moosh. I’m Dr. Hottie and these are my students Dr. EvenHotter, Dr. Lickable and Dr. Swoon. It says here that you’re having issues with your hoo-ha.”
“WHAT? It says I have WHAT? WELL, let me just tell you that there must be some sort of MISTAKE! Because I? I HAVE A HEADACHE. Up here. See my pretty head? It hurts! That chart says I have WHAT? No no no, all that down there is like a land of golden flowers and diamond encrusted ponies, no, my problem is my head. I feel sorry for the girl that has THAT problem. My well groomed, pretty, pretty head is my problem. Ouch it hurts so bad.”
So I was treated for a fake headache by Dr. Hottie and his Dazzling trio of hunkiness.
I also made another appointment on my way out with a woman. A big, brawny, strong woman.
And made a special request that doctors not be hot anymore. That they all come out of medical school looking like haggard old grandpas.
Is that too much to ask?
On another topic, I’ve been getting some good quality girl love whilst I have been here. I had my second date with the smokin’ hot Loralee from Loralee’s Looney Tunes on Saturday. In all my history of second dates, never has a second date been so wonderful. It involved a dressing room, a blow up doll, a gay man, stylists and copious amounts of sushi.
We put the WHEEE in party.
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