Friday, May 01, 2009

Mister Evil Dinner

The other night, I was out at dinner with Dr Phil, and a guy at the table next to ours had a massive heart attack. His wife started screaming, "Is anyone here a doctor?" Everyone at the restaurant looked at Dr Phil, but he kept on eating his carbonara. Eventually, I stood up and said, "Yes, my friend here is a doctor." And Dr Phil whispered to me, "Come on, man, you know I'm not a real doctor, I'm a television therapist." So I said, "Just fucking do something, you useless fat fuck." So Dr Phil got up and went over to the old bloke (who was kind of turning blue) and asked him, "What is the real problem here?" And the guy was all like, "Uuuh... my heart... uuuh." Then Dr Phil said, "How does this make you feel?" The guy kind of stopped his convulsions and didn't talk or move. So Dr Phil asked his wife, "Do you think his silence says more than words ever could?" Then he took a bread roll off the dead guy's table, took a bite and went back to his pasta. Dr Phil's a bastard, man. And also, that guy's wife was cheating on him.

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