Saturday, September 18, 2010

You won't see this shit on Scrubs.

A real-life conversation between myself and Brother Leach, via text message, on 7 July 2010, during the AM:

Leach: hey, real sorry to do this...i have a conference call at 1130 i really need to be on. can we rain check for tomorrow or friday?

Davi: You always do this! What about my needs?! Sure, that's cool. :P

Leach i'm sorry that i can't fulfill your desires. i guess i'm not the man i thought i was ='(


Leach: so does that make up for my inadequacies?

Davi: You're a doctor. You're in the clear...FOR NOW...

Leach: so would you be willing to say that my trust is on...LIFE SUPPORT?

Davi: I would say it's in critical condition, but stable. We just need to keep it over night for observation.

Leach: ...that's what she said.

Davi: That's what I said.
Leach: you did say that.

Davi: I did. What are you gonna do about?

Leach: i'm gonna fight about it.

Davi: You can't. You're a doctor. If you fight, you lose your non-combatant status, and then the terrorists win.

Leach: i will fight with telekinesis. also, with scalpels. cave-dwelling guerrilla warfare experts have nothing on my scalpel prowess.

Davi: I...can't argue with that. If anyone challenged you about the scalpels, you could claim you were attempting to perform surgery on a patient who didn't want to be operated on by a white devil infidel.

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