An army Major visiting the sick army men, went to one soldier and asked, 'What's your problem, Soldier? '
'Chronic syphilis, Sir.'
'What treatment are you getting? '
'Five minutes with the wire brush each day.'
'What's your ambition? '
'To get back to the front, Sir.'
'Good man, ' said the Major.
He went to the next bed, 'What's your problem, Soldier? '
'Chronic piles, Sir.'
'What treatment are you getting? '
'Five minutes with the wire brush each day.'
'What's your ambition? '
'To get back to the front, Sir.'
'Good man, ' barked the Major.
He moved to the next bed where Santa was lying and asked, 'What's your problem, Soldier? '
'Chronic gum disease, Sir'
'What treatment are you getting? '
'Five minutes with the wire brush each day.'
'What's your ambition? '
'To get the wire brush before the other two, Sir! '
Edwin Drood
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chronic-disease-a-not-so-funny-story/
