Friday the 13th…

**Patient has chest pain if she lays on her side for over a year.

**The patient states that there is a burning pain in his penis which goes to his feet.

**On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it had completely disappeared.

**She has had no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.

**The patient has been depressed ever since she began seeing me in 1983.

**I will be happy to go into her GI system, she seems ready and anxious.

**Patient was released to outpatient department without dressing.

**I have suggested that he loosen his pants before standing, and then, when he stands with the help of his wife, they should fall to the floor.

**The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.

**Discharge status: Alive but without permission.

**The patient will need disposition, and therefore we will get Dr. Blank to dispose of him.

**Healthy-appearing, decrepit 69 y/o male, mentally alert but forgetful.

**The patient refused an autopsy.

**The patient has no past history of suicides.

**The patient expired on the floor uneventfully.

**Patient has left his white blood cells at another hospital.

**Patient has become more demented with urinary frequency.

**The patient’s past medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past three days.

**She slipped on the ice and apparently her legs went in separate directions in early December.

**The patient experienced sudden onset of shortness of breath with a picture of acute pulmonary edema at home while having sex which gradually deteriorated in the emergency room.

Driving a car doesn’t always sound like fun.

The average ten-year-old doesn’t have a clue who Bo and Luke Duke are.

Being bad is no longer cool.

You have friends who are married.

You have friends who have kids.

Saturday mornings are for sleeping.

You are taller than the slide at the McDonald’s playland.

Your parents’ jokes are now funny.

You have ever said, "Whatch-you talkin’ ’bout Willis?"

You have owned, and since disowned, Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

Christmas starts to piss you off.

You would rather wear your dirty clothes again, ’cause mom is not there to do your laundry anymore.

Two words: parachute pants.

Naps are good.

Hitting girls is no longer considered flirting.

You no longer do the "pee pee" dance.

You have onced deemed Space Invaders as "The best game ever".

When you know that the machines in the gas station bathrooms don’t dispense balloons.

When things go wrong, you can’t just yell, "Do-over!"

Playboy’s Playmate of the month is younger than you.

The only thing in your cereal box is … cereal.

You actually buy scarves, gloves, and sunscreen.

Your idea of fun parties now include Chips ‘n’ salsa and Snapple.

You leave concerts and ballgames early to beat the crowd.

You WANT clothes for Christmas.

You don’t want a Camaro because of the insurance premiums.

You remember when Saturday Night Live was funny.

You’ve bought an album on vinyl.