Because of some lingering layringital sore-throat, I haven’t been able to sing for nearly a month, and it’s making me a pissy little bitch. Singing on a regular basis at the top of my lungs is how I release the stress that would otherwise cause me to find the people who drive ten miles an hour under the speed limit, run them off the road, pull them from their cars, rip their legs off, and then beat them with their own dismembered limbs.

During part of a medical visit today, my doctor said this to me, and I love him for it:

I’m thumping you because I’m looking for fluid. I thump everybody. When I get home, I thump things. It drives my wife crazy. I do a lot of thumping.

I don’t know why that pleased me so much. Probably because, taken out of context, it makes him sound like a complete madman.

Dope, yo.