A Quote by Rodney Dangerfield

I told my doctor I got water on my knee, he gave me a sponge and raised his fee! — © Rodney Dangerfield
I told my doctor I got water on my knee, he gave me a sponge and raised his fee!
What a doctor I've got - he's really mixed up. Last week, he grabbed my knee and told me to cough. Then hit me in the balls with a hammer.
Someone came up to me and told me that [his opponent's] knee was hurt, and he said to me, attack his knee, I'm like, 'Yeah right, I'm not going out to attack this guy's knee.' It just doesn't … it's not realistic to go after his injury, unless they got a cut the same week, then it's like, yeah, hit him in the eye, because the [expletive] is going to re-open and now you wouldn't fight on the cut. Maybe on a cut you want to take advantage of it, that makes sense.
My father was a doctor, but his passion was making cars, and he was also very good at carpentry. He was a gem, and I don't blame him for not understanding me. When I told him that I would be leaving, he checked his pocket and took out 100-rupee note and gave it to me. He did not like that I was leaving, yet he gave me the money.
Dieting is long-haul. Many rapid weight loss programs actually only squeeze the water out of you. Just like a wet sponge. But a good dieter maintains his or her grip on that sponge, not letting it soak up water again.
I'm a bit like a sponge. When I'm not writing I absorb life like water. When I write I squeeze the sponge a little - and out comes, not water but ink.
When I was growing up, there was a man who gave me lessons and things. I'm very dyslexic so he used to give me extra reading and writing. And he always knew that I was interested in stuff but he never told me that he was in the Second World War himself. One day he gave me his helmet that he had worn through the North Africa Campaign. It was just before he died. So I've got his helmet. That was pretty special to me.
Every year my boss used to give me a bottle of expensive brandy because I'd told him that my doctor suggested a drink once in a while. This year my boss gave me the name of a new doctor.
My stomach was hurting, so I just told the doctor, let me get a MRI. I went and got an MRI and two hours later, they told me I had got cancer. I said something like, 'Hell no. I ain't got no cancer, y'all trippin'.'
Is there no hope? the sick man said, The silent doctor shook his head, And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow.
I told my doctor I wonna stop aging, he gave me a gun!
A newborn child has to cry, for only in this way will his lungs expand. A doctor once told me of a child who could not breathe when it was born. In order to make it breathe the doctor gave it a slight blow. The mother must have thought the doctor cruel. But he was really doing the kindest thing possible. As with newborn children the lungs are contracted, so are our spiritual lungs. But through suffering God strikes us in love. Then our lungs expand and we can breathe and pray.
Like I always said, Carson Palmer got hit in his knee in 2005 but there was no rule made. Then Tom Brady got hit in his knee and all of a sudden there is a rule and possible suspensions, excessive fines - it's just getting ridiculous.
It's a sponge and I'm a sponge and for a second there all our sponge parts are one and I don't just have square pants, everything about me is squarish because I'm part of a wall.
Without question, the notion of the doctor as a legitimate fee-for-service entrepreneur, making his fortune from misfortunes of his patients, is old-fashioned, distasteful, and doomed.
Once when I was cooking I burned my arm with scalding water. I went to the Emergency Room of the Hospital. When the doctor came in he looked at me and looked at my chart, and looked at me and looked at my chart, then looked at me again and said, "I loved your show!" He told me that when he was doing his internship he would come home every night stressed out, but he would watch a late night rerun of the Andy Griffith Show and relax and fall asleep. He said, "I wouldn't be a doctor, if it wasn't for the Andy Griffith Show".
Someone told me the delightful story of the crusader who put a chastity belt on his wife and gave the key to his best friend for safekeeping, in case of his death. He had ridden only a few miles away when his friend, riding hard, caught up with him, saying 'You gave me the wrong key!
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