What Is Your Favorite Thread?

The ghost story is one of my fav's too. And anything on the first year of nursing school. Oh yea the rules for Nursing School is also up there.

Nursing ghost stories :chair: and Grey's Anatomy :redpinkhe thread.

What is NUBS? :wink2:

There was a thread a couple of days ago called "Good Advice for Nubs". The OP meant to say newbs or noobs, for newbies, but the way she mispelled it was so darn funny that we all took over the thread making jokes about what NUBS could possibly mean. It's probably still there, look for it, it's really funny. Anyway, none of us usually make fun of spelling errors or poke fun at others, but this was just so funny we couldn't help it. And it was done in fun, not in a rude way. Poor kiddo, don't even remember what she was asking.

Ghost stories.........hands down

I also like the good morning thread, and lots of the ones in the break room

i like the ghosts thread, but my favorite ones are the "rules for the er" and "things my patients taught me not to do" threads.

I will need to dig my favorite up. It was a girl narrating a story of something that happened to her and it was just about the funniest thing I have ever read. I remember there being something about shaving your legs. I will find it and bump it up.

I will need to dig my favorite up. It was a girl narrating a story of something that happened to her and it was just about the funniest thing I have ever read. I remember there being something about shaving your legs. I will find it and bump it up.

This is my favorite post, it is by ****RN (name disguised to protect the innocent).

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,

fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the

thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours:

maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.

I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I

mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of

hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart,

press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising

crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How

hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm

mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd

think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,

stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the

wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer! and heat

the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ***. (Oh, how that phrase

will come back to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the

skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world,

but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I

am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin

extraordinaire!

With my next wax strip, I move north.

After checking on the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming

one with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom

for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and

place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the

wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right

half of my lady parts and stretching up into the inside of the right *** ch!

eek. Yeah, it was a long strip.) I inhale deeply. I brace myself.

RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain! Vision returning. Oh

crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep

breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing

drums? OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax

covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I w! ant to revel in the

glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an

Olympic gold medallist.

But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could

the wax go, if not on the strip?

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see

hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am

touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!" And

realize I have just begun living my own personal version of "The Tar

Baby." I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body

that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big

mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the

toilet. I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down

on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door. lady parts?

Sealed shut. ***? Sealed shut. A little voice in my head says "I hope

you don't have to [censored] anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I

should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest

water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe

it away, right? Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter

than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical

equipment. And I sit.

Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is

having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In

scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax. So

now I'm stuck to the tub.

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so

surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's

never good to start a conversation with "So my *** and labias are stuck

to the tub." She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress

laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the *** - "Are

we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide

the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the

number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where

the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at

XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd

just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.

You're going ! to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell

them the truth.

"While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the

wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies

than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and

THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to

other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the

lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start

screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations

from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the

hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb

by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine

cabinet. Never know when a moustache might start to come in.

Tonight, I attempt hair dying.

This is my favorite post, it is by ****RN (name disguised to protect the innocent).

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,

fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the

thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours:

maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.

I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I

mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of

hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart,

press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising

crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How

hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm

mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd

think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,

stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the

wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer! and heat

the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ***. (Oh, how that phrase

will come back to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the

skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world,

but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I

am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin

extraordinaire!

With my next wax strip, I move north.

After checking on the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming

one with Bear and learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom

for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and

place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the

wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right

half of my lady parts and stretching up into the inside of the right *** ch!

eek. Yeah, it was a long strip.) I inhale deeply. I brace myself.

RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain! Vision returning. Oh

crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep

breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed? Do I hear crashing

drums? OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax

covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I w! ant to revel in the

glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an

Olympic gold medallist.

But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could

the wax go, if not on the strip?

Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see

hair - the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am

touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout "nooooooo!!" And

realize I have just begun living my own personal version of "The Tar

Baby." I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body

that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big

mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the

toilet. I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down

on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the cell door. lady parts?

Sealed shut. ***? Sealed shut. A little voice in my head says "I hope

you don't have to [censored] anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I

should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest

water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe

it away, right? Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter

than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical

equipment. And I sit.

Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is

having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In

scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax. So

now I'm stuck to the tub.

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so

surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's

never good to start a conversation with "So my *** and labias are stuck

to the tub." She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress

laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the *** - "Are

we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide

the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the

number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where

the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at

XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd

just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.

You're going ! to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell

them the truth.

"While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the

wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies

than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and

THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to

other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the

lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start

screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations

from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the

hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb

by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine

cabinet. Never know when a moustache might start to come in.

Tonight, I attempt hair dying.

OMG, That is the funniest thing I have ever read :chuckle. My eyes were tearing up while I was reading that. We need more things like that every day on this board.

That, hands down,is the FUNNIEST thing I have ever read.

OMG, That is the funniest thing I have ever read :chuckle. My eyes were tearing up while I was reading that. We need more things like that every day on this board.

I remember reading this when it was first posted! Very funny stuff. I almost peed my pants a little from laughing too hard!

OMG, That is the funniest thing I have ever read :chuckle. My eyes were tearing up while I was reading that. We need more things like that every day on this board.

I remember reading this when it was first posted! Very funny stuff. I almost peed my pants a little from laughing too hard!