Saturday, August 8, 2015

Ol' Doc Barker

“Doc! Doc!”

“Oh lord! Love a duck! Mr. Thomas! This is my back yard…”

“You gotta help me!”

“…I told them, ‘Make sure it’s ten feet with barbed wire on top’, but did they listen? Nooooo…”

“I woke up this morning and I had an epiphany!”

“…See? B – B –Q…not examination table? Big difference…”

“I’ve got a disease!”

“And I’m wearing Bermuda shorts, not a stethoscope…”

“I’ve been giving a lot of thought about this doc….”

“…Does this even look like a tongue depressor? It’s called a spatula…”

“I’ve noticed that when anyone does anything despicable, they blame it on having a disease instead of themselves…”

“Mr. Thomas, can’t you just phone the clinic on Monday? It’s a lot easier to avoid you there…

(from the kitchen window) “Who are you talking to dear? Oh, it’s him…Don’t let him near the trees! The last time he was here the dogs ran around confused for a week …”

“I obviously have some sort of disease that prevents me from having sex!”

“What prevents you from having sex is in your genes”

“Hey, that’s low; besides it’s not the size… it’s the motion of the ocean…”

“Isn’t there a bar stool you should be sitting on?”

“But if you say that celibacy is a disease, then I could get help for my condition!”

“Your only condition is that you have a foot fetish: the problem is that it’s your own foot that you put in your mouth…”

“Just what are you hinting at?”

“Celibacy is a lifestyle choice…not a disease.”

“So is drinking, gambling, shooting up or going on line, but they’re considered diseases now! I went to the bar last night and (a loud sob) nothing! (Sharp intake of mucus back into nose) I really, really tried, doc, but nothing, nada, zippo!”

“And you’re surprised? I still consider it a medical mystery that you’re not a virgin!”

“I did every smooth move I know…I drank heavily enough to make everything I said utterly brilliant…I called every chick, ‘babe’…I selected an Indigo Girls song for the jupebox…I even ordered a paralyzer and made pornographic bubble sculptures…I even combed my hair!...I…I…(snot and tears so heavy in the throat now)..I drank a wine spritzer…A wine spritzer… But nothing!”

“…Move to a small town, they said, it’s more peaceful relaxing, they said… listen, Mr. Thomas, have you ever considered moving to somewhere…Where women have very low standards? Say, oh, I don’t know, far far far away from me? I hear it’s pretty nice in Antarctica this time of year…”

(Wiping nose on arm, leaving a large shiny line to shine in the sunlight) “Give it to me straight, doc…is it terminal? Am I sentenced for the rest of my life dating the palm sisters?”

“Did you run out of coffee again, Mr. Thomas? Seriously, don’t buy the tins, buy the pallets…”

“I’m serious! I’ve got a disease!”

“Look, diseases are debilitating, what makes you think celibacy could even be considered a disease?”

“Well, at night, if I roll onto my stomach, I get an extreme pain in my groin…”

“Get a softer bed …”

“I can’t look at a woman and think about nailing her”

“That’s called being a guy”

“I wear sweat pants and pray for a good strong wind”

“Again, it’s called being a guy…”

“I stand outside the plastic surgery clinics every day…”

“That’s a little creepy…”

“…in the back by the dumpster in hopes of seeing some skin…I mean nose  job, chin job….you can extrapolate cuz it’s got ‘job’ in it so it’s sorta close to hand job or blow job, right?”

“Ok, that’s a lot creepy, but that doesn’t make you sick…”

“I dreamt that I was in a threesome with Chloe and Kim choice!  I-I-I moved the wrong way when I was doing Chloe and fell in, doc, Kim and I fell in…we couldn’t find my way out…spent the rest of my life foraging for scrap pieces of banana and egg plant that had made their way up and sleeping on a hammock strung between her fallopian tubes while Kim kept on asking if her hips made her ass look fat...”

“…Let’s get a place in town, she said. The kids will be able to walk to school and we won’t have to worry about the weather, she said…”

“I wake in the morning and everything is stuck to me…”

“Nightly emissions are normal…”

“But my cat’s really starting to get pissed about going into the shower every morning..”

“Go into medicine, they said, you’ll love it, they said. I knew I should have become a lion tamer…”

“But I try as hard as I can, but I still can’t stop being celibate…it can’t be my fault! If a person can embezzle fifty thousand dollars for their company and then blame it on a casino, there has to be something I can blame this on, damn it!”

“Listen, you evoke the fear that most women have that if they ever conceived with you, the fetus wouldn’t know up from down and they’d end up as a footnote in a medical text as the first orally presented birth…
“So what would be the treatment then?

“Treatment? Caring…sensitivity…cooperating…thoughtfulness…”

(From deep within the house) “You better say foreplay if you know what’s good for you! Or you’ll find celibacy is classified as infectious…”

“…FOREPLAY, you know, parts of your personality that makes you desirable to women…you have to fake sincerity …”

“Does it come in pill form or can I just do a patch thingy?”

“Uh, it’s not something you can buy…”

“What about a surgical solution?”

“Hmmm, removal of your vocal chords may help me quite a bit….no, no, sorry; it’s just the way it is…”

“So there’s no hope then…I’ve just have to put on a brave face and accept my fate…”

“You know, there’s a lot to be said for holistic medicine – maybe you should discuss this with the acupuncturist down the road…”

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