September 25th, 2002

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A guy comes in to the vet's office with a really limp dog in his arms. He lays it on the table, and the vet looks it over, listens through his stethescope, and then says, "I'm sorry sir, your dog is dead."
The man is angry. "Just like that, you tell me my dog is dead? You barely even checked him out! I want a second opinion!"
So the vet goes out, and comes in a moment later with a Labrador Retriever. The dog walks around the man's dog, sniffs at it, then says, "Woof" and walks out sadly.
The vet goes back out and returns with a Siamese, who proceeds to walk around the man's dog, sniffing at it, before it says "Meow" and runs out with its hair up on end.
The vet says, "I'm sorry sir, your dog is still dead. That will be $600, please."
The man is now livid. "SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS just to tell me my dog is dead?!"
The vet replied, "If you had taken my prognosis at the outset, it would have cost you only $50. But with the Lab work and the cat scan...."
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oh yay.
there goes another few clusters on my quickly-becoming-an-unuseful-paperweight laptop.

fuck
fuckfuckfuck.
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