4
Given my degenerate lifestyle-a fairly obvious subconscious attempt to do myself harm by stealth-it is almost inevitable that I will wind up in a hospital at some point, probably soon. If anyone out there somehow manages to oversee it, do me a favor and make sure it's one of the types that serves booze. I'll be ever so grateful.
Right after the birth of my nephew, my brother and his wife were served a dinner of filet mignon and champagne at the hospital, to celebrate their first wedding anniversary. AND IT WAS GOOD!
Lucille Bluth: I'll be in the hospital bar.
Michael: Uh, you know there isn't a hospital bar, Mother.
Lucille: Well, this is why people hate hospitals.
Under our wonderful NHS, British hospitals all house pubs. Knives are issued upon arrival.
OT: Awl y'awl were on fire today.