Spamalot - What Ever Happened To My Part?

Spamalot - This Is The Song That Goes Like This.

Spamalot - Find Your Grail.

Annoyed by long wait-times at the clinic?

Me too!

I can't help noticing, however, that the patients who complain the loudest are also usually the ones who insist on giving me the James Michener-version of their History of Present Illness.

Just give me the bullet-points. I don't need to know the color of your first car, or who your next-door neighbor's cousin married.

Believe me, I'd love to slow down and have a friendly chat. It's just not possible. Not when there are other exam rooms full of patients checking their watches and tapping their feet impatiently.

Clinic starts in twelve minutes...

Have a good day, everybody!

I'm nicely blitzed on some Belgian ale.

I love you all...



I'm an affectionate drunk...

I would like to apologize.

I posted a reply to a thread yesterday. It was referring to a popular biker slogan, and I adapted it to the subject matter of the thread. It contained an inflammatory word. I was wrong to use that word, and I apologize.

The view of the night sky over the planet Krikkit is the least interesting sight in the Universe.

Discuss.

I just received this note from Will horse-post from Stratford:

My dearest Rob't o'th' Subterranean Advocates of Self Rool, greeting:

How art my lad? Art well? Your loving & obn't friend & sarvant, Will Sheackspere, is well & fine at home with Annum, my loyal huzzif, and the little ones, Susannah and the twins. Sweetly have I byded the tyme here, bearing no regrets for the hours and days, &c, &c, away from London and the Globe. 'Tis restful indeed. But O! Have I missed thee and your loyalest followers. I wish to eckspress my desire to return to our prior business in perhaps a fortnight. So much news there is on the wind, and across the land, &c. &c, that right it is we take up our pens again and sally forthwith. Agreed? My investments have done well here, and I return with a full purse, the better for to fete my dearest friend and his friends. And thus as friend to friend, we sustain that friendliest regard which has o'erseen our endeavours. Good Robin, take all my thanks for your tender care these days and weeks, &c. &c. and tell th'Self-Roolers I kiss my hand at them a thousand times! And for you most especially, my tenderest embrace, good fellow.

In a fortnight then.

Farewell, and soon well met,

Your obn't srvt, Wm Shaxpr, gent.
New Place
Stratford-upon-Avon


So Will is coming back in about two weeks! We will resume William Shakespeare's Thought For The Day at that time!

Slow day in clinic. Ask me anything.

If I don't answer right away, it means things got busy.

Happy Tuesday, everybody...

Happy Birthday to America!

A nation founded by the Puritans. Who gave us The Puritan Work Ethic. Which evidently means working until you drop dead, after which, some spoiled-rich idiot will stand over your body and condemn your memory for not working hard enough for HIS wealth. Not that the Puritans didn't appreciate the importance of leisure time. Which apparently, they spent hanging housewives whose chickens laid funny-looking eggs, and listening to sermons like Jonathan Edwards' "Sinners In The Hands Of An Angry God", which reads like 'World War Z', only without Brad Pitt and the cute Israeli soldier.

Fun times!