The Bakers Wrecked 'Em
Note to the squeamish: some of today's cakes are medically gross. I've seen much worse, but still...put the coffee down.
As the child of a former RN, I couldn't let National Nurses Week go by without showing the nurses of the world some love.
And by "love," I mean this:
Uh...
I don't really know what's going on here ("I'm an escalator, not a doctor!"), but it looks serious.
Oooh, gutsy.
(At first I typed "gusty." Bwahahahah!)
Now, while Canadian nurses apparently celebrate their degrees with stuff like this:
A giant...water bottle? And a decapitated bear. And bar codes. And...uh...what the heck, Canada?
As the child of a former RN, I couldn't let National Nurses Week go by without showing the nurses of the world some love.
And by "love," I mean this:
Uh...I don't really know what's going on here ("I'm an escalator, not a doctor!"), but it looks serious.
Nurses have to have pretty strong stomachs to do what they do, not to mention a healthy dose of humor. This combination, however, makes for some...shall we say..."interesting" cakes.
Oooh, gutsy.(At first I typed "gusty." Bwahahahah!)
A giant...water bottle? And a decapitated bear. And bar codes. And...uh...what the heck, Canada?American nurses prefer their cakes a bit more bottom heavy.
As a Trekker, I really must object to this. Once I finish sniggering.
As a Trekker, I really must object to this. Once I finish sniggering.And yes, it gets worse.
This was was found over on Emily's blog:
It's a thermometer, not a straw.
Oh, and sorry for putting "straw" in your head if it wasn't there already.
Yeah, hindsight being 20/20, that was a bum crack to make. A real wipe-out. A party-pooping crapshoot*. Sorry.
*or crap chute, if you want to get technical.
FUNNY-BUT-TRUE-STORY: My hubby John is a 250-pound tough guy who faints at needles. Once in college he had to get a shot in the cheek. The southern cheek. Well, the moment he bent over the table was the moment he first discovered that - you guessed it - he faints from needles.
He regained consciousness on the floor, in the lap of the lovely lady nurse who had caught him, with his pants down.
He now tells this story to every nurse we meet.
Next time, maybe we should bring cupcakes to help smooth things over:
"You take the pink pill, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the bloody band aid, and dude, you are nuts."
Audrey A., Shannon S., Matthias, Emily A., Jenny C., Sila Y., & Corey F., that's one way to call dibs on the vanilla cupcakes.
It's a thermometer, not a straw.Oh, and sorry for putting "straw" in your head if it wasn't there already.
Yeah, hindsight being 20/20, that was a bum crack to make. A real wipe-out. A party-pooping crapshoot*. Sorry.
*or crap chute, if you want to get technical.
Seriously, though, nurses, what's with the butts?
FUNNY-BUT-TRUE-STORY: My hubby John is a 250-pound tough guy who faints at needles. Once in college he had to get a shot in the cheek. The southern cheek. Well, the moment he bent over the table was the moment he first discovered that - you guessed it - he faints from needles.He regained consciousness on the floor, in the lap of the lovely lady nurse who had caught him, with his pants down.
He now tells this story to every nurse we meet.
Next time, maybe we should bring cupcakes to help smooth things over:
"You take the pink pill, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the bloody band aid, and dude, you are nuts."Audrey A., Shannon S., Matthias, Emily A., Jenny C., Sila Y., & Corey F., that's one way to call dibs on the vanilla cupcakes.
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