Dr. Blood Dr. Bonebrake Dr. Bridge Dr. Burrmaster Dr. Butcher Dr. Capps Dr. Crown Dr. Doktor Dr. Drillings Dr. Eaton Dr. Fear Dr. Gerber, a pedodontist Dr. Gold Dr. Goodman Dr. Gross

Dr. Gumbmann Dr. Gumm Dr. Hurtt or Hertz Dr. Kill Dr. Kreuger (as in Freddie) Dr. Kruel Dr. Lipps Dr. Love Dr. Mohler Dr. Myracle Dr. Needle Dr. Needleman Dr. Nervo Dr. Payne Dr. Pitts

Dr. Ripp Dr. Sells Dr. Suemme Dr. Sjogren (pronounced-Show-grin) Dr. Slaughter Dr. Smyle Dr. Swindle Dr. Toogood Dr. Toothacher Dr. Toothman Dr. White

Golf on a Quiet Sunday Morning
It is a quiet Sunday morning. A golf foursome that has played together, every Sunday for years, is putting on the thirteenth green. A road runs next to the green. One of the guys in the foursome is standing over his putt, determining the line of the putt. He looks up to see a funeral procession driving past. He stops, lays his putter down, removes his hat and stands quietly, facing the procession until it passes. The other guys hurriedly do the same. Once the procession passes, one guy turns to the other and says, “Gee Bob, that was a really respectful thing that you did there! I’m impressed.” Bob kind of shrugged off the compliment while he continued to line up his putt and said, “Hey, it was the least I could do, we’d been married for 25 years.”

Man on the Women’s Tee
It was a sunny Saturday morning on the first hole of a busy course. I was beginning my pre-shot routine, visualizing my upcoming shot when a voice came over the clubhouse speaker. “Would the gentlemen on the women’s tee back up to the men’s tee.” I could feel every eye on the course looking at me. I was still in my routine, and again came an announcement from the clubhouse. “Would the man on the women’s tee kindly back up to the men’s tee.” I simply ignored the guy and kept concentrating, when once again the speaker blared out this message. “Would the man on the women’s tee, PLEASE back up to the men’s tee.” I finally stopped, turned, looked through the clubhouse window, directly at the person with the microphone, cupped my hands over my mouth, and yelled back, “WOULD YOU KINDLY SHUT UP AND LET ME PLAY MY SECOND SHOT!”