Dr Farquar's Case History

April 26, 2009

Dr Farquar on Carrots

Carrots

Did you know that the voice of Bugs Bunny by Mel Blanc hated carrots? So whassupp Doc? Heir Offadorg

Dr Farquar says: So he did, apparently. Ask anybody who can draw crude illustrations and they will tell you that characters in cartoons are just carrot-chewers of themselves. Did you also know that carrots were invented, not at Safeway, but in Celtic times as a medicinal drink against insanity? Proving that if carrots were so good for your eyes, then why don’t hares see the school bus on a Monday morning? Should it be bigger and in a different colour, perhaps?

I found some squashed hares on the side of the road but on closer inspection it must have been the fact I was thumbing a lift wearing a T shirt emblazoned with “Truckers are ugly cunts and too lazy to walk” when an irate lorry-driver pulled up and jumped out of his cab and kicked me in the pubes so hard they became very squashed and flattened spreading them across the kerbside and my midriff to a square area of 12″ by 12″. Perry Noia

Dr F: That’s one pubic foot.

I read somewhere that tobacconists in France put carrots in their tobacco to stop ‘drying out.’ Sacre bleu! Why try to stop our Froggy friends who have a drink problem from booking themselves into a clinic? Putting a carrot in their tobacco is just asking for trouble making roll-ups bloody hard to light. What self respecting sweaty French gent going to bike down the Chance a Laser with a neck-full of garlic and onions, probably, on his way to Alcoholics Anonymous via the Arc de Trump, is going to appreciate the added inconvenience of stopping in loony French traffic to re-light a Camel, when it has a root vegetable firmly stuck in the other end? Mon ami petit pois cul-de-sac le vol au vont Monsewer as they say in the Consomme! Pierre Snip

Dr F: How novel. Take Brittany Spears for instance, she has all kinds of problems. She is a sad victim of Murphys Law. (See Dr Farquar ‘Murphys Law’) In her case ‘what could go wrong already has’. Isn’t it strange that the richest pop idol in the world is not happy after getting new tits too?

I suggest that a simple garden vegetable could save her from further addiction and dropping her baby on the pavement. Carrots could stop her snorting cocaine if she just stuck one up each nostril. But even if she took my advice I put it to you that wealthy fame obsessed selfish junkie stars like her won’t be happy with just 2 carrots up her nose. It would have to be at least 22 carrots.

Perhaps she should forget Murphys Law and try Coles Law.

According to the Guinness book of records the heaviest carrot ever recorded was 18.985lbs in 1998 (single root mass). Haven’t people got anything else better than growing obscenely large mutant roots for their own pleasure? Sue Aseed

Dr F: Agreed. It’s bound to bugger up your juicer too. Having said that, a mentally ill patient on my books who believed that he was a walking talking breathing carrot walked out of my surgery yesterday and straight under a bus. So he got his wish in a way and will probably remain a vegetable for the rest of his life.

I saw a sign on the motorway saying ‘Heavy Plant Crossing’. Imagine my surprise when both a 72 foot Melon and a 50 stone cauliflower jumped into my path. Callum Atwat

Dr F: How very melancholy. Was it because it was a dual cabbageway? An assortment of oversized vegetables can leave you in a bit of stew. It was Confucious that once said “Woman that puts carrots and then peas in the pot is a dirty feckin’ bitch.”

I tried to grow carrots once but they were very skinny. Is it because they are quite thin on the ground? Graham Reaper

Dr F: I know you. You are that partially deaf farmer that accused me of stealing carrots from right in front of your eyes. You great blighted turnip! I said “I will have to remove the ‘cataracts’ from right in front of your eyes”. But like some carrots I hope with the use of laser surgery you will have your eyes well and truly peeled in future.

I am bedridden and not had a bed bath since my admission yesterday. I admitted to the nurse I’d shat the bed. You promised to… just like a carrot… ‘top and tail me’. What happened? Isla Dunnit

Dr F: The last time I gave you a ‘lick and a promise’ I had to shag you and you know that plays havoc with your bedsores. Is that what you really want? Now come on, is it?

What happens when a carrot dies? Do you have to re-bury it? Donna Dildo

Dr F: When carrots are left to just die as compost, two things usually happen. They either go to that shallow drill in the sky and are seeded to become another carrot through Gods help and photosynthesis. Or they re-incarnate to become another life form. As a believer in re-incarnation I want to come back as a Buffalo in Montana where I can eat and sleep when I want to, make love when I want to and shit where I stand. On the other hand, I just might fancy a change.

Gentlemen in Teheran in the 1870’s took carrots stewed in sugar as an aphrodisiac to increase the quality and quantity of sperm! Achmed Toe

Dr F: Ahhh! I bet their women might have something to say about that but, alas, unfortunately they are not allowed to. Then again… bisexuality abounds in the Middle East as it does here in Grunty Fen. In my case, you think you have met the mule of your dreams and then along a goat comes with that look in its eye. Although I find, where love is concerned, an Afghan goat tends to be a bit of a martyr and they have to ‘be everywhere with bells on’ and I hate girls that wear too much jewellery anyway. Its only when others try to ‘get on my goat’ I complain.

Do you think that Osama Bin laden got his idea to blow up the twin towers from Fred Dibnah? After all Fred did sound a bit Arabic when he spoke in his broad Yorkshire accent and ate a sandwich with his mouth full. Osama Breeze

Dr F: Well, to be honest, locals have spotted them both in a pub called the ‘B-52 and F-16′ pub in Burnley. Nobody batted an eye. It’s just another everyday commonplace scene of racial tolerance in this country. Fred was on the Guinness talking about demolition and steam riveting with Osama taking turns on the Karaoke with his 7 wives making a full set of teeth. In fact Bin Laden was so pissed he secreted a map of his whereabouts to Fred in the men’s room. It was a Grade 3 sheet of sandpaper because of a shortage of Andrex.

Osama, it seemed, was suffering from an attack of flu symptoms and sneezed loudly, causing drinkers to dive under tables. Luckily Fred knew all about flu and chimneys and offered his diesel flavoured handkerchief, but Bin Laden thought it was an act of surrender and had Mr Dibnah stoned by the end of the night where they got ‘more stoked than a 80 gallon 11 ton 1869 Grantham & Beckett traction engine.’

By the way ‘Osama Bin Laden’ with a bad cold is an anagram for ‘NASAL NOMAD BE I’

That’s interesting! Did you know that could also mean ‘I MODEL BANANAS’ Anna Gramm

Dr F: I don’t care what you do for a living, luvvie. These notes have got nothing to do with bananas and a silly play on words. It’s about carrots and our war on terror and just a bloke and his mate going out for a drink when it’s bloody murder trying to get a little peace. Sure, Bin Laden would like to get his hands on Bush but who wouldn’t after fifteen pints and the last of your nuts on the table?

Not about bananas.

What has Osama and his wives got to do with a bunch of yellow-bellied bent buggers obviously out of their tree?

Freends. Filo A mirror cans. Brothaz in Orrms. Ann orr boiz in Eye Rack. Hilary and other pieces of ass ma age. Mim bars of the Priss and our Allize aginst ‘tear’ and dem liddle ornery Chine eeese Muthas. May I address yooze gazz as your pressie dint Lordy lordy and from the bottom of my freedom luvvin’ re—–publican and con—-fed—erreet hooort that a thieenk the bee estt anagram of this gotless ty rint should read, and I mean thiarse most sincerely folks, “BE A SLAIN NOMAD” and is for myrrh approprit. Heh heh! Gad Bliss A mirror car. Mummas apple paa…Kintuckee Frad Chucken and yes filo A mirror cans my incy wincy little squinty feckin’ face. So hilp ma. Yes Sirree bub.

(Microphone still on) “How dare that lesbian vote rigging bitch run against me? She ain’t nuthin’ but a pink canoe chasin’ bottle blond bean flicker in comfortable shoes…Man… I bet sheeze as dry as Ghandis filp flops and as for Bill he hasn’t rounded up the tadpoles since Monica did a Dizzy Gillespie on him in the Oval. I’m gonna beat her to the Whitehouse at the next election harder than a father beats a ginger-haired step-child, Yessir…………….Whaddyamean…. I’m still on air ? ….Alrighty then … well…Viva democracy people….errrr…(where’s the men’s room?)

George W Bush

Dr F: That’s it! I’m fed up with my case records ending with convoluted anagrams. As the president of the United States you must enjoy twisting others peoples words all the time, but enough is enough.. Its not your Father’s fault. He blames Al Quida “AND I BLAME A SON.” Namely you…you are nothing but “A BAD SANE OIL MAN.” Or as it says on your very own ID card “ID: MEAN ANAL S.O.B.”

Leaving “I, A SAD NOBLEMAN. Or, as most male nurses know me ALIAS: “BONED MAN.”

http://DrFarquar.wordpress.com
http://FugitiveAuthor.com
http://DailyReckless.co.uk

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