On my first date with a nurse, she invited me over for dinner. The meal was vegetarian. I suggested that maybe sometime she could come to my place, and I would barbeque. She went into shock and proceeded to give me a long lecture on diverticulitis. She told me to go into the bathroom and she would irrigate my colon to free the fatty pockets formed from my consumption of meat. I looked at my watch and said, “How time flies. I have to be going.”
-- Joseph, 25
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