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Medics
A chief with the pox, from Barokta, Was asked at reception, ‘Which doctor?’ He replied, ‘No, I’m not, But just look what I’ve got,’ Then revealed his big problem and shocked her.
The acquisitive Doctor de Battic Is never confused or erratic. All those who can pay Are sent (well) on their way; The others get whipped in his attic.
There was an ill strongman of Brussels Whose muscles could even make muscles. It grieves me to say He still faded away: His corpuscles could not make corpuscles.
‘Open wide,’ said a dentist with grace To the anxious old virginal face. ‘You may feel now, Miss South, A small prick in your mouth – ’ She cried, ‘Hardly the time or the place!’
Though cannibal shamans were fakes, They all prospered by treating mens’ aches. Few patients got cured, Yet their failures ensured They would seldom be faced with missed steaks.
A hard-driving surgeon called Gutting (To master his slicing and cutting) Would practice all day, Knowing his patience would pay, But he did lose his patients while putting. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This limerick was written in collaboration with J.E. Pettit. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A nurse of miserable meanness Was told the prescribed intravenous Is always for healing, And not to leave reeling, The pricks she would prick on the penis.
Have you heard of vile Dr. de Murit Who simply refused to endure it When girlfriends objected To getting infected? ‘Just trust me,’ he snapped, ‘I will cure it.’
A donor of blood known as Peters Was wronged by computerised meters. He was generous and kind, Yet those brutes didn’t mind When they stole his young life and six litres.
As a healer, the bland obstetrician Had little financial ambition. He loved ladies deeply, So treated them cheaply – Half price if they caught his condition.
Said the doctor to uptight Ms. Titus, ‘Oh, dear, you’ve acute laryngitis.’ She rasped, ‘Thanks! But you men Are such creeps, Doctor, when You regard us as objects to slight us!’
Appendectomy patient, James Dare, Asked a nurse-aide to shave off his hair, But she put up resistance By keeping her distance – She knew what lay waiting down there.
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