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Ask Bob!
"Have it your way, have it, have it, your way." - Burger King - Note: About the song in my head, I know it's just an annoying commercial song, but I just can't get it out of my head. It just plays over and over and over and over and over in my big bullum-head. Melissa Paternick is now claiming to be the mother of my baby-girl. This all a big fat lie! That's all that comes from her chapped lips! Here is the proof, my baby is cute as a button and as mighty as an ox. Melissa is ugly and weak. There, what more proof do you need? Last week she admitted that she has been lying to you about everything she ever wrote, but if she's always lying, then that means she was lying, when she told you she was lying. Which means her admission of guilt was a lie, in turn, everything she said in her commentaries for the last two years, must be true! So Melissa does have a husband named Ralph, she had lived in a cardboard box, and she also gave birth to an Alien child that she sold to the Government. But suddenly she is trying to hide all this...I wonder why? I guess we'll find out soon enough. But what I really wanted to tell you about was the birth of our new baby! It was a C-Section because my wife is too "lady-like" to give birth to a giant 10 lbs baby-girl. Enough about that, what I really-really wanted to do, is give all the new, young, fathers out there some advice about dealing with birthing-doctors. Keep in mind they're in business to make money, so they try to "stick it too you" whenever they can. Deal with them just like they were used car salesmen and don't be afraid to haggle a bit when needed. Always question their judgment, they may look annoyed, but they'll respect you in the long run! For example, when my wife reached 5 centimeters (baby birthing talk), our doctor wanted to give my wife and "epidermis-ural." Well, I took biology in high school and I'm well aware that folks already gots them an "epidermis" under they skin, and it works just right-fine. So I speaks up! "Aint no call for sumthin' she's already got!" I says out loud to the doctor. "Your just trying to 'pad your account.' She'll be fine with the epidermis that she's already got." "She hasn't had an epidermal." The doctor tries to tell me. "Does so!" I says. "Does not!" He says. "Does so!" I says. "Does not!" He says. "Does so!" I says. "Does not!" He says. This goes on until she's 8 centimeters, and they go ahead and stick sumthin' in her back for the pain. The doctor tells me it has nuthin' to do with her epidermis. Knowing I won the argument, and saved a good amount of money - to boot, I decided to pipe-down a-bit. That is, until they say they gonna put in "14 CC's" of some chemical in her tubes. "Hey!" I speak up, "Do we really need that much? How much will we save if we just put in '10 CC's' of that stuff?" I underbid, knowing the doctor will probably suggest "14 CC's" again, I figure I'll get him down to "11 CC's" and we'll just save that much more! I was very proud that I was there for my wife, protecting her against unnecessary, future, financial burdens! That was until a nurse hit me on the head with a tray filled with needles and chemicals. They said it was my fault because I was standing too close and was in the way, but I know she did it on purpose! Any ways, a needle pokes me in the shoulder and the next thing I know, I wake up in my wife's room and she is baby free (on the inside). I know they got rid of me, because I was saving us too much money. So too get back at them, I constantly made conversations about the drugs my wife gets when she's out of the hospital, only instead of saying "prescriptions," I says "subscriptions" every time:
I went on and on and this drove them nuts, but it served them right! They played "dirty pool" when they knocked me out.
But still, I feel good knowing I saved our family a bunch of money and in the long run I "Bested" them
all with my annoying mannerisms!
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