“So I’m planning on flying up to Portland, Maine next week,” I told my friend. Dead silence. Clear disapproval. I understood that. It’s early July still in the midst of our much misunderstood pandemic and I was doing something crazy. Getting on an airplane.

A woman walks into a bar with his dog. "This is a talking dog. If this dog can answer my questions, who will buy me a drink?" she asks.

An inventor wrote that: I went to the NZ Patent Office trying to register some of my inventions. I went to the main desk to sign in and the woman at the desk had a form that had to be filled out.

While taking a clinical history from an elderly patient, a doctor asked, "How's your love life?"