stolen colours

Sometimes, it is the funny things that stay in one’s mind.

It was the day after my last harrowing active call with team 3. The MO on call and my fellow HO, Ph, were in the lift in me.

Ph: come, I tell you a qian bian joke.
Me: err no need it’s okay.
Ph: I insist.
Me: okay go ahead.
Ph: What’s the difference between a char siew bao and a piece of bread?
Me and MO: *too tired to bother thinking for a stupid qianbian joke* Don’t know don’t care. Just spit it out.
Ph: A char siew bao has feelings, but a piece of bread doesn’t!

Me and MO: that is SO NOT FUNNY.

Ph: Wait, got part two. What’s the difference between a char siew bao and a lian yong bao?
Me and MO: Whatever.
Ph: They have different feeeeeelings.
Me and MO: *started laughing maniacally all the way from the lift to the ward because it was so retarded and so un-funny and because we were too tired to let our logical thought gateways function*

And I saw it coming the day I applied to university:
Patient (a 60-year-old uncle): What is your name?
Me: Dr Hu.
Patient: AH! I used to read the books when I was young!
Me: Ah…*finally it happens* yes I have heard of that but never had a chance to read them…