Of carpets and comedians

Two semi-funny bits I might as well share here —

“Nice carpet you have here.”

“Huh?”

“From wall to wall… wavy, brown… were I inclined towards grotesquerie, I would say it is as if your room was carpeted with dogskins; pardon the unpleasantness of that thought — though it is apt. A nice effect with the primeval chaos of the countertops. And that effect is added to because apparently the workmen didn’t get the carpet on quite evenly… God, what are these clumps?”

“I don’t have no carpets. I just don’t vacuum. Oh, if you drop something, better not try picking it up. Especially if you meant to eat it.”

How about this?

The operation went all well until Johnson spoke up, to lighten the atmosphere a bit. A joke so funny the nurses cracked up; the head surgeon snorted, planted a hand in the patient’s crotch to steady himself and, recoiling from that, accidentally cut his small intestine in half.

Considerably less laughter after that.

Much less still when the administrator asked us what took so long.

Let this be a lesson to all — stand-up comedy has no place in the operating theater.

While the first is a pure overblown ick scenario, I wonder if the second ever happens? (“What went wrong with the operation?” — “A man, a miniature piano and a bar.”)

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