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Um, that American Girl part-time gig is mine. The part-time job is an elusive creature and fulfilling employment even more elusive.


Don't you have some experience in colo-rectal surgery? I seem to recall.


Why, yes, Jules, I do. Back when I was fresh out of high school I worked for a colon-rectal surgeon. I remember three things very clearly:
1) The only hot guy who ever passed through the doors was gay and had AIDS (a rare thing back then). We were all very bummed.
2) On more than one occasion, patients didn't follow the doctor's instructions and give themselves two Fleet enemas before submitting to the scope. The result was basically a poo bomb exploding in the poor doctor's face, covering any and all in its way with feces. He took it much better than I would've.
3) The doctor's office—not the examining room, but the office where he sat patients down and explained about their fissures, whatnot—had a vent that went directly to the bathroom. So these poor people would be sitting there, hearing that they had polyps or worse, all the while, the doctor's next patient was broadcasting his loud, explosive diarrhea through the vent.

That office was a lotta laughs. I still love a good poop joke!

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