The bad news is that
the doc didn't call
to tell me the results
of the test.
The good news is
that he would have
called if they
found I didn't
have a brain.
Here's the
MRI receptionist.
I gave everyone
space helmets
because I was
convinced I was
inside a time
machine, watching
the world through
a periscope, focused
on a sign on the
opposite wall,
"tell us if you
are pregnant."
More tomorrow . . .
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