I had a doctor’s appointment today where I had some of the more sensitive areas of my body examined. It was not fun for me.

But as I was sitting in the waiting room of this fairly prominent, fairly high-end specialist, I noticed pretty much all of the clients sitting there around the same time as me were either extremely retarded (like the one older chick who had an escort to fill out her paperwork and who had to be told constantly to quiet down because she was babbling incoherently to herself so loudly), extremely elderly (like needing a walker to move around elderly), or extremely obese. I have no idea what that was all about.

It struck me that compared to the freaks, weirdos and dust farters there I was probably the best thing going for that doctor this morning. And I’m even pretty sure he’s not a queer.

So that is reason #56 why I could not be a doctor: some days the best eyeful you’re going to get is courtesy of some dude, and you’re not a gay who can enjoy it.