Is it Sunday?? Then it Must be Time for Physician Phunnies . . . .

We offer the following for your persnickety perspicacious preview:

An elderly gentleman on his deathbed is insisting that he be buried with all his money. He calls his most trusted friends – a priest, a lawyer and his personal physician – to his bedside.

“Here’s $240,000 cash to be divided among you equally. I’m trusting each of you to place your 1/3 into my casket when I’ve passed, so I can take it all with me.”

At the funeral each man places a sealed envelope into the coffin. As they ride away in the limousine the priest abruptly breaks down in tears and confesses, “I only put $60,000 in the envelope. We need $20,000 to repair the church roof.”

           “Well, since we’re being completely honest,” offers the attorney, “I only put $25,000 in the envelope myself. I do a lot of pro bono work for which I don’t get paid a cent.”

           The physician is stunned. “I’m ashamed of both of you. And I want it on record than when I placed my envelope into that casket, I enclosed a signed check for the full $80,000.”


dr-behaving-badlt-artA fellow with back pain visits his doctor. He gets a brief checkup and a prescription. Irritated at the cursory exam, he asks if that’s all there is to it.

“Sure.  There’s not much more we can do than give you a pain pill.”

“But you haven’t run any tests. Maybe it’s more serious than a simple muscle pull.”

The doctor rolls his eyes, turns to leave the room, and comes back with his pet retriever. The dog takes one look, shakes his head slowly and walks away.  Then the nurse brings in a tiny Siamese kitten, who sniffs the patient, jumps down and sprints out the door.

At the front desk the man is handed a bill for $685. He nearly falls over.

“You people have a lot of nerve. How dare you charge me $685?  All he did was poke me a few times and write this prescription.”

 “The receptionist smiles condescendingly. “Yes, sir, and the exam itself is only $80. But the Lab test is $200 and Cat scan is $405.”


A dying doctor looks up at his wife holding his hand with tears running down her face. He smiles faintly and says, “I’ve been so lucky to have you. I am terribly sorry for all those foolish affairs that I had.”

“You relax,” she says quietly. No need to apologize for anything.”

“But I need to hear you forgive me.”

“Not at all,” she replies. “Just relax and let the blowfish serum take care of everything.”


A little girl turns to his grandfather, a retired psychiatrist with an irascible disposition. Little did the girl know that her grand-dad doctor that been mean to everybody, all his life, except to her. She looks at him and said, “Grandpa, talk like a frog.”

“What? I absolutely will not.”

“Ah, come on. Please? Just talk like a frog. Just once. Talk like a frog.”

“That’s nonsense. Where do you get these ridiculous notions?”

The little girl thinks about it for a moment, and then tells her grandfather that it was actually grandma’s idea.

“Well, I don’t believe grandma would say anything like that.”

“Oh yes she did. Grandma told the mailman that on the day you croak, we’re all going to Disneyland.”

(Excerpts from the book, “America’s Dumbest Doctors”)

Have a healthy weekend, readers. Thank you for joining us, and watch out for those lab coat loons.



One thought on “Is it Sunday?? Then it Must be Time for Physician Phunnies . . . .

  1. Thanks for the laugh–the best medicine!

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