Free Surgery For Spammers!

The changing room door squeaks loudly as I enter, hoping to change quickly and sneak into theatre without anyone noticing how ridiculously late I am. Naturally, this catches the attention of everyone in the changing room, and who should be sitting closest to the door but my latest boss, Komrad Konsultant Surgeon. God must still be mad at me from last week when I kicked that little puppy down my road. (I was reading a textbook whilst walking, okay? Also said textbook may then have ended up on said puppy. NOT MY FAULT. --Editor) I mutter under my breath to the door, "Thanks a lot, asshole." (And yes, I talk to inanimate objects, okay? It makes up for the fact that I have no friends. DON'T JUDGE ME. --Ed.)

Komrad Konsultant sweeps out the door, giving me a look that would make even Ron Jeremy's* unmentionables shrivel so much he'd need Viagra for the rest of his life. I go to theatre and look at the surgery list for the day, and I swear God must've heard what I called that door, because typed on that sheet were 2 haemorrhoid repairs, 2 anal fistulotomies (back-to-back!) and a rectal biopsy.

Bummer**.

As I scanned the list and prepared for an afternoon of going where no man had gone before (colonoscopes don't count), I swear all I could think of was -

how I wish these patients were all the spammers on my blog.

Hell, I'd do it for free. I'd even give them a huge discount on anaesthetics.

It was a while before I realised the scrub nurses were staring at my evil grinning and hand-rubbing. Man, I hate spammers.

*Famous porn star known for his huge-- um, ego. Good friend of mine. Birds of a feather must stick together. Right ladies?
**No pun intended***.
***Oh, who am I kidding.