toewatch five resistance is futile
The beautiful chermopodist in the short skirt and boots instructed me to take off my shoes and lie back on the table.
Her voice contained nothing a normal human being could mistake for a sensual sexual quasi-erotic invitation to tryst.
Every fibre in my being quivered with wishful thinking.
The word "zorgonianvorgs" flashed through my mind briefly.
How very odd.
I did as the chermop had instructed.
She leaned over my toe.
A curtain of dark hair fell across my ankle.
It was hers.
Still attached to her head too.
How tee totally alluring.
We were alone in the dimlit office but I distinctly heard Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise at my shoulder shouting: "Open fire Mr Worf. All weapons."
I ignored him.
The chermop straightened up.
"I've got good news and bad news," quoth she gently, "which do you want first?"
"I'll take the good news please Doc."
"It's not an ingrown toenail."
"It's not?"
"No."
"What is it?"
"Gout."
And from somewhere not too far away Ennio Morricone's epic soundtrack to The Good The Bad And The Ugly went: "Aaiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
The moment passed.
"There's no shame in it," said the chermop. "In the past it was called the rich man's disease. It was thought people got it from drinking lots of port and eating sumptuous meals all the time."
I nodded bitterly.
"No shame in it Doc?" I muttered. "Obviously you don't know my family."
Her voice contained nothing a normal human being could mistake for a sensual sexual quasi-erotic invitation to tryst.
Every fibre in my being quivered with wishful thinking.
The word "zorgonianvorgs" flashed through my mind briefly.
How very odd.
I did as the chermop had instructed.
She leaned over my toe.
A curtain of dark hair fell across my ankle.
It was hers.
Still attached to her head too.
How tee totally alluring.
We were alone in the dimlit office but I distinctly heard Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise at my shoulder shouting: "Open fire Mr Worf. All weapons."
I ignored him.
The chermop straightened up.
"I've got good news and bad news," quoth she gently, "which do you want first?"
"I'll take the good news please Doc."
"It's not an ingrown toenail."
"It's not?"
"No."
"What is it?"
"Gout."
And from somewhere not too far away Ennio Morricone's epic soundtrack to The Good The Bad And The Ugly went: "Aaiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
The moment passed.
"There's no shame in it," said the chermop. "In the past it was called the rich man's disease. It was thought people got it from drinking lots of port and eating sumptuous meals all the time."
I nodded bitterly.
"No shame in it Doc?" I muttered. "Obviously you don't know my family."
posted by heelers | 12:40 AM
4 Comments:
Well, don't keep us in suspense, James. What's the treatment?!
Congratulations James, the truth can only free you.
Are you the first member of our family to succumb to this "lifestyle affliction"?????
Can we expect some idiosyncratic application of equine terms to pepper your speech soon....."fine filly"etc?
Don't drink full-sugar fizzy drinks anymore James, there was a study recently that should a big old link between sugary drinks and gout, sadly it also included apple juice.
I can't believe Dr. Darn didn't diagnose it.
Gen, I can tell you this. The treatment is too much for a renaissance man to handle.
Fran, God will punish you.
Schnee, the goodish doctor's success rate as a diagnostician increases in direct proportion to his chances of getting paid by the patient seeking diagnosis.
J
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