Even though I worked Friday night, I still have quite a bit of wind left in me and feel pretty good.
Thusly, a brief post…mainly because it is a very easy one to write.
First up, I offer you a few things that were said while I was in the hospital.
ER Nurse: We are waiting on your room to be readied.
Me: I’m staying?
ER Nurse: Oh yeah…You are very, very sick boy, Matt.
Me: Hey look…The colors on my gown match the colors on my tennis shoes.
ER Nurse: See? Very, very sick.
Ultra Sound Tech: Wow…You have really nice legs Mr. Mahoney.
Me: Why thanks…most people say the look like Pixie Sticks.
UST: I meant that your veins and arteries show up really well on the ultra sound and they look fantastic.
Me: Awww man, don’t destroy my fantasy, ma’am.
UST: Hee. Hee. You can tell people that I said that you have nice legs.
Lung Doctor: (entering my room and looking quite puzzled) Mr. Mahoney?
Me: Hi Doctor.
Lung Doctor: I’ve been reading your chart, and you look MUCH better in person than you do on paper. I expected to see a man curled up in a fetal position.
Me: I was like that until I figured out how to work the TV remote.
Few Days Later…
Doctor Who Oversees Discharges: So Matt, what did Dr. B (Lung Doctor) say to you?
Me: He said that he would try to expedite my discharge.
DWOD: (Chuckle) Well, I’d keep you another night, but Dr. B said that you can go home tonight. So, I’ll get your paperwork ready.
DWOD: (Chuckle) One of the reasons he is sending you home tonight is because he likes you because you are funny.
Sometimes…Being funny pays off.
And Now…A Happy Birthday Wish to One of my Brothers.
My brother Marty turns 48 today. I am the ninth of nine and Marty is number eight so he and I have always been pretty close.
Marty is a good guy…a generous guy… and like most of the Mahoney boys, one incredibly funny fucker.
His backyard abuts the green to Hole #6 of the somewhat swanky Bagwine Country Club golf course.
Outside of the windows to his master bedroom of his house is a very wide, flat roof. Marty likes to at times, climb out the window and sit in a lawn chair on that roof.
Now Marty doesn’t just sit idly by while watching golfers attempt to drain their putts. Marty likes to be a part of the action, and that is why he takes an air horn out with him.
As golfers begin their putt, good ol’ Marty enjoys pressing down on said horn allowing it to exert its loud, obnoxious bellow.
Ha. That my friends, is an act of brilliance.
Happy Birthday Marty and here’s to many more for you, you magnificent bastard.
And to all of you…