The artist tried to concentrate on his work, but the attraction he felt for his model finally became irresistible. He threw down his palette, took her in his arms and kissed her.|
She pushed him away.
"Maybe your other models let you kiss them. But not me." she said.
"I've never tried to kiss a model before," he swore.
"Really?" she said, softening, "How many models have there been?"
"Four," he replied, "A jug, two apples, and a vase."
"Why, no. Is she up to anything special?"
Mrs. Smith leaned closer. "Haven't you noticed? She has started knitting tiny garments!"
Mrs. Jones' troubled brow cleared. "Well, thank goodness," she said smiling, "at last she has taken an interest in something besides running around with boys."
The woman said, "I'm glad of that doctor, but I'm not Mrs Brown, I am Miss Brown."
"Miss Brown," said the doctor without changing expression, "I have bad news for you."
Two doctors were in a hospital hallway one day complaining about Nurse Nancy (a blonde, of course).
"She's incredibly mixed up." said one doctor. "She does everything absolutely backwards. Just last week, I told her to give a patient 2 milligrams of morphine every 10 hours, she gave him 10 milligrams every 2 hours. He damn near died on us!"
The second doctor said "That's nothing. Earlier this week, I told her to give a patient an enema every 24 hours. She tried to give him 24 enemas in one hour! The guy damn near exploded!"
Suddenly they hear this bloodcurdling scream from down the hall.
"Omigod!" said the first doctor, "I just realized I told Nurse Nancy to prick Mr. Smith's boil!"
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