Morning Sickness For Everyone!

, , , , , | Romantic | January 23, 2021

My fianceé and I both have a weird sense of humor. It’s what drew us to each other. One night, we’re both lying in bed, about to go to sleep, when she farts under the covers. I’m usually the one that has the most foul-smelling farts in this relationship, but since she got pregnant she’s been trying to take first place.

Fianceé: “Oh, wow, I’m so sorry!”

Me: “It’s fine. You know how mine usually are.”

She quickly lifts her covers.

Fianceé: “Oh, wow. No, babe, this one is terrible!”

I get a whiff of hers, and yeah, it’s pretty bad. So I let one go myself, and like normal, it’s pretty bad.

Me: “Oh, no, I got one that’s worse.”

Fianceé: “No, I win. You know why? It’s two versus one.”

I love this woman.

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This Story Is Disgusting!

, , , , , | Related | January 22, 2021

I’m the author of this story. This is from when my brother and I were younger; I was eleven, and my autistic brother was five. Now, my mom, being a smart mother, would always make sure we went to family-friendly venues if we’d go out. My idiotic know-it-all sperm donor, not so much.

One time when my brother was in this interesting linguistic phase, my father wanted to go to a convention out of state and take us with him to turn it into a family vacation. The convention was at a rather nice business hotel. Despite being a large hotel, we might have been the only family there. I’m sure the poor hotel workers and other patrons were thrilled.

One night there, my mom took us kids to go eat dinner at their fancy restaurant. My sperm donor was busy with his all-important convention. We made a point to go early to avoid most other patrons and make it easier on everyone. My brother got some noodle dish, and I’m guessing it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. He loved it. Unfortunately, my dear little brother had somehow gotten it into his head that the word “disgusting” meant really good. So, envision this: a fancy restaurant, mirrored walls, golden chairs, white table cloths, other diners dressed in suits, and a five-year-old repeatedly screaming, “IT’S DISGUSTING!” very gleefully. 

The poor waiter ran up to us a few times. My mom and I were doing our best to shush him, taking it in turns to try and educate him on the meaning of the word, telling him he needed to be quieter, and just desperately trying to distract him.

It was all to no avail. Throughout the entire dinner, he continued to exuberantly exclaim how truly disgusting his food was. After all, this was truly the most disgustingly good meal he’d ever eaten, and he wanted to show true appreciation. My mom and I hurried the meal as quickly as we could, apologizing to the poor, horrified waiter each time he came over.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we escaped, paid the bill, and ran back to our room. We never dared step into that restaurant again. At least my sperm donor enjoyed his convention.

Fooied That Up

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Order Matters Word!

, , , | Healthy | January 22, 2021

Our electronic medical records program has a screen where we fill in details regarding prescriptions and it puts together the sig from that information. Sometimes the providers don’t pay attention to the output. Here’s an actual prescription I caught that had been sent several times before I did:

Prescription: “Take one tablet to make it easier to urinate orally, once a day.”

I’m sure the pharmacists got a laugh every few months when that came through!

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We Really Admire That Dog

, , , , , | Related | January 21, 2021

We have two older dogs. My boy has a bad leg and is a complete pushover. My girl is going blind and has a well-managed chronic pain condition and knows she’s queen bee. We have two dog beds in front of the TV. One is snuggly and the other is firm for when too many blankets would make it difficult for one of them to get up. 

This evening, I am watching TV and my boy is in the snuggly bed, having earlier pulled his favourite blanket from the firm one and into the snuggly one, and my girl is in the firm one. She decides she wants some comfort and climbs into the snuggly bed, lying on top of his bad leg. He gets up and glares at her. 

Then, he goes deliberately into the kitchen to my dad. Dad assumes he wants out and opens the back door. My girl can’t resist a chance to go outside and immediately gets up and trots outside. My boy turns round and gets back in the bed she just vacated. 

Who says dogs don’t have good reasoning skills?

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White-Collar Workers Need To Get With The Times

, , , , , , | Right | January 19, 2021

This happens in the 1980s at a time when direct selling parties are all the rage. I am attending a party marketing cleaning products — face, body, household, etc. After being guided through giving ourselves facials, the consultant moves on to talking about laundry products. One of the attendees interrupts her spiel.

Attendee: “I already use a lot of this stuff but I’m still having trouble removing stains from inside my husband’s collars. He’s getting angry at me because he keeps having to spend money on new shirts and says that I am wasting money buying products that don’t work. Is there something that will definitely work?”

Consultant: “I do have some items that will work for that.”

She picks up one of the facial cleansers, a cake of soap, and a washcloth.

Consultant: “Just put a little cleanser or rub the soap onto a wet washer and—”

Attendee: *Interrupting* “I’ve already tried soap and I doubt that face cleanser would work on fabric.”

Consultant: “No, as I was saying, after doing that, you give the washer to your husband and tell him to wash his neck — either that or scrub his own d*** collars. It’s things like this that make me glad I never married.”

Everyone laughs. A few weeks later, I am back with the same group. The consultant asks the attendee how the collars are now.

Attendee: “He wasn’t happy with using women’s products but agreed to try it. I haven’t had to scrub a collar since and he wants me to order more face cleanser!”

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