Comrade Barf
It starts out as one of those tiny Buddha statues meditating quietly on your stomach. Sometimes you look at it, recognizing that it will one day signal your rise out of the depths of basic medical science and entry into the bright tile and vaulted ceilings of the hospital. Throughout the first two years of medical school, you try to ignore the little man sitting on your chest, but quite suddenly you find yourself at the end of it, suffocating under the monstrosity that is a 500 pound fat man. He smiles and laughs and farts as you watch him eat donuts and chocolates and drink soda pop,...
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