Mom-

This is going to sound awful, but it really works: gargle with warm salt water for a couple of minutes -- and don't swallow.

 

Allready did that geee I guess OLD minds think alike

 

the Doc says:

My boy, you need to get out more often. Currently, quite a few hot-dog distributors are selling in packs of 8, just like the buns. For many, this is a refreshing change and a welcome answer to their 8:10 ratio dilemma. However, for others, like myself, a new problem is created. When the ratio was still 8:10, things were peaceful. You may indeed be asking, "but Doc, how could this be???". In my household, Mrs. Doctor Chops ocassionally enjoys a raw weenie... as well as a raw hot dog. Her hunger is usually curbed with approximately 2 raw hot dogs per every 10 we purchase. This , for you math-magicians out there, now leaves the 8 required hot dogs. Thus we have a happy and productive 8:8 ratio. It was back in the early 40's that I first started petitioning the hot dog distributors to include the extra two hot dogs per package. They complied with my demands up until the last decade when all hell broke loose, and pig rectums and sheep lips were at an all time low. Faced with these shortages, the distributors were forced to either lower the ass/lip content per hot dog, or limit the number of hot dogs per package. The result is what we have now... you can either buy 10 hot dogs with lower ass/lip content, or buy the ass/lip rich hot dogs in fewer numbers. The choice is one of personal preference

 

I will NEVER eat another hotdog

 

and what about my throat????

 

Then try hexavalent chromium. It will destroy anything.

 

The Doc says:

I suggest the use of a comma between the words 'DOC' and 'Mom' in your sentence, as to not confuse any readers.

The Doc says:

In medieval times, a soar throat was thought to be a sure sign of poor driving skills. Frequently, horse collisions were blamed on the driver, usually female, who did indeed have a soar throat. Depending on who was involved in the collision, the guilty party was often beheaded. This was believed to put an end to both the soar throat and the lack of common sense behind the reins. Unfortunately, after the beheading, the person who was beheaded was usually left with spotted vision and often a nasty hacking cough. Spotted vision carried no myths on its shoulders, but the hacking cough was believed to bring misfortune to the family of the neighbor whose domicile the original collision had taken place in front of. If it was a business instead of dwelling, the misfortune could grow to as much as 10 fold. With all of the advances in technology, and the discoveries in modern medicine recently, we now know that this is not true. There is no scientific basis supporting that a hacking cough will bring a business owner misfortune 10 fold, but only the original single fold that of a domicile owner.

Faced with these facts, I would suggest that you don't tell anyone else of your soar throat, and for god's sake, don't drive anywhere.


Or you could have a few shots of Grand Marnier, and eat a hot dog.

 

Could you send me some?

 

pure oxygen

 

That's "sore" you spelling-impaired phrasbeaux rickidillies, blimps "soar."