Then there was this medical convention where three surgeons met during a coffee break. They were chatting about different operations on different kind of people.
First surgeon: “I prefer Chinese. They have what it takes and their bodies are perfect.”
Second surgeon: “I like Vietnamese. They are so small and delicate that you have to have steady hands, else the incision is big. It’s a challenge to operate on them.”
Third surgeon: “You are both novices. You don’t know about lawyers. They are my favorite because when you open them, they have no heart and they don’t have a spine. Also their heads and butts can be swapped.”
An old man was critically ill. Feeling that death was near, he called his lawyer. “I want to become a lawyer. How much is it or the express degree you told me about?”
“It’s $50,000,” the lawyer said. “But why? You’ll be dead soon, why do you want to become a lawyer?”
“That’s my business! Get me the course!”
Four days later, the old man got his law degree. His lawyer was at his bedside, making sure his bill would be paid.
Suddenly the old man was racked with fits of coughing and it was clear that this would be the end. Still curious, the lawyer leaned over and said, “please, before it’s too late, tell me why you wanted to to get a law degree so badly before you died?”
In a faint whisper, as he breathed his last, the old man said, “One less lawyer . . .”