Saw a young lady the other day who had gut-wrenching belly pain. She was rolling around all over the cot when I noticed that she had something written on her T-shirt. With her moving all around, I could neither properly examine her abdomen, nor read what was written across her chest. When I finally convinced her to settle down, she had a benign physical exam and her shirt read,
“Meat is Murder. . . .
Tasty, Tasty Murder.”
When I disclosed this to Melissa, she one-upped me with her coup d’ etat of t-shirts,
“If you don’t like oral sex, shut your mouth.”
Though spectacularly hilarious, don’t expect Alchemist to come out with organic versions of either of these shirts any time soon.
The patient, despite the million dollar work-up, had no definable pathology.
Ken and I found the entrance to the 4-mile connector to the Benjamin Loop today. It’s about a mile past the Poorman’s turnoff. It’s got stairs. But it ain’t open yet, so don’t even think about rollin’ your fat tires on it. BTW, rode Super West Mag on Sunday. It’s dry and sweet.