My doctor
is a bit of a character. On the occasions I have had need of his services, he's always been very professional and shown genuine care and concern, but although I do not know him personally in private life, he lives a few miles from here and I hear he's quite, quite mad.

He appears every year in pantomimes, usually as one of the dames. The man has so many children he makes the catholics from "The Meaning Of Life" look abstinent. He also likes a drink, so I hear, and is often to be found merrily whiling away the hours in his local pub.

The best one, though, happened a few years ago. In the village where I live, there used to be a small inn which sits just next to a hairpin bend in the main road, next to a bridge over a small stream. The building's still there but it's now disused, which is a shame but perhaps is safer for us in the long run. One evening, as punters drank their troubles away and enjoyed a spot of pool, my Doctor dropped in for a visit. Shunning the traditional "through the door" method however, he came straight through the wall in his car, having misjudged the severity of the hairpin bend outside.

At least there was a doctor on the scene.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sat 13 Mar 2010, 15:18, Reply)