what's up doc?

I have had the weirdest stomach issues as of late. I have no idea what's wrong with my body, but I'm totally void of energy. A gal can't get enough sleep. Everything makes my tummy hurt. It's a big hot tranny mess...Enough of a mess to force my behind to go to the doctor's office, which is something I hate doing because I'm mad cheap. I did it though, and found out something glorious:  Doctors will ask you about your pooh!!!

He comes in all perplexed and confused (I mean what are you supposed to think when a gal tells you EVERYTHING makes her stomach hurt) and THAT'S when he makes the cardinal mistake...He asks me to discuss my pooh...IN DETAIL!

Big mistake doc...

I start telling him, in graphic detail, about that glorious stuff that I talk about on a daily basis at work. The difference is, he asked for that ish while my poor work associates don't. To give him an accurate picture, I compared my stuff to McDonalds' french fries...At that moment he busted out laughing with nervous discomfort. I'm so unique and fly. Even my pooh descriptions can't be matched! He stopped writing and told me to get downstairs for blood tests. I, Tish, was able to single-handedly throw my doc for a loop. That was a very proud moment for me...very proud moment.

I think that was my crowning glory moment...

A memorable comparison...


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