Five surgeons are discussing who were the best patients to operate on. The first surgeon says, ‘I like to see Accountants on my operating table because when you open them up, everything inside is numbered.’
The second responds, ‘Yeah, but you should try Electricians! Everything inside them is colour-coded.’
The third surgeon says, ‘No, I really think Librarians are the best; everything inside them is in alphabetical order.’
The fourth surgeon chimes in, ‘You know I like Construction Workers. Those guys always understand when you have a few parts left over at the end, and when the job takes longer than you said it would.’
But the fifth surgeon shut them all up when he observed, ‘You’re all wrong. Politicians are the easiest to operate on. There’s no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains, and no spine, and there are only two moving parts – the mouth and the arsehole – and they are interchangeable’
Sometimes, you read a story, that is just so profound that it’s a story that you’ll never forget. This is such a story. A story to remember.
Once there was a man who lost one of his arms in an accident. He became very depressed because he had been an avid golfer. One day, in despair, he decided to commit suicide. He got on an elevator, went to the top of a building and prepared to jump.
As he was standing on the ledge looking down, he saw a man skipping along, whooping and hollering, and kicking up his heels. He looked closer and saw that the man didn’t have ANY arms. He started thinking… what am I doing up here feeling sorry for myself, I still have one good arm to do things with. There goes a man with no arms skipping down the sidewalk. He’s happy and is going on with his life.
He hurried down and caught up with the man with no arms. He told him how glad he was to see him because he had lost one of his arms and felt useless and was going to kill himself. He thanked him again for saving his life and said he knew he could make it with one arm if that guy could go on with no arms at all.
The man with no arms began dancing and whooping and kicking up his heels again. He asked, ‘Why are you so happy anyway?’
He said, “‘I’m NOT happy………My balls itch.”