Did you know that the next generation of doctors are a bunch of smokin’ fine hotties?
Neither did I until I had to go in and inquire about a particularly embarrassing feminine issue.
*knock knock*
“Well hello Ms. Innocent. I’m Dr. Hottie and these are my students Dr. EvenHotter, Dr. Lickable and Dr. Swoon. It says here that you’re having issues with your hoo-ha.”
“WHAT? It says I have WHAT? WELL, let me just tell you that there must be some sort of MISTAKE! Because I? I HAVE A HEADACHE. Up here. See my pretty head? It hurts! That chart says I have WHAT? No no no, all that down there is like a land of golden flowers and diamond encrusted ponies, no, my problem is my head. I feel sorry for the girl that has THAT problem. My well groomed, pretty, little head is my problem. Ouch it hurts so bad.”
So I was treated for a fake headache by Dr. Hottie and his Dazzling trio of hunkiness.
I also made another appointment on my way out with a woman. A big, brawny, strong woman.
And made a special request that doctors not be hot anymore. That they all come out of medical school looking like haggard old grandpas.
Is that too much to ask?
