narrated in a gentle southern accent
I have a friend who's a med student. Once he was performing a check up on a large woman with sizeable and pendulous breasts. He needed to hear her heartbeat so he said kindly, "Ma'am, I'm gonna listen to your heart with my stethoscope. I just need you to lift up your breast for me."
So she did, and as he went to press his stethoscope to her chest, he noticed, stuck beneath her breast, was a slice of bread.
Naturally he wasn't sure what to say, so he went about his business as if the bread weren't there for a second before suggesting perhaps he could hear better from the other side.
Relieved as she let down one breast and lifted the other, he reached down -- only to find ANOTHER slice of bread slapped to the skin beneath the second breast.
At this point, he couldn't ignore the situation.
So he goes,"Eh hem, Ma'am, are you aware that there are... pieces of bread beneath your breasts?"
And she explanatorily exclaimed, "Child, you know I be sweatin!"
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tales from life in a co-op
under our roof
a glassblowing alternajournalist, a musical storytelling anarcho-baptist, a capoeira-playing engineer, a renaissance physicist, a scrabble champion math teacher, a neurobiologist philosopher, a filmmaker documenting the deadliest man alive, an international flutist biologist, a journalist animator baker, a hiking biking banjo-strumming math teacher, a singing bilingual editing, a backgammon playing sex therapist, a novel-writing psych nurse guitarthlete, a pensive epistilary collage artist & two cats.