My patient's still fighting in the feminist trenches, but the war is over. Yesterday's sluts are today's empowered women; today's sluts are celebrities -- if that isn't progress.
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Either she cracked under the whip, or she realized her evolutionary purpose is to arouse men, not castrate them.
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Shocks without shock, an itch that won't stop. She needs Dr. Seuss.
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I respect things that earn respect. This decision, on the other hand, is a dog wearing a cape.
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She dumped me after I lost those last eighty-five pounds. Said there was less of me to love.
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If I wanted gifts, I'd just look deeply into my patients' eyes and act like you. “I'm so sorry you're dying, Mrs. Moron. Of course I'll sleep with you. What I lack in skill, I make up for in –“
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