Michael Cargill

Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.

Nurse Ratched returns

Sup, y’all? I poppenurse ratchedd to the hair salon the other day and Sandra, my usual stylist, was on holiday. Holiday? The cheek of it! I had to make do with some silly blonde girl who kept asking if I wanted highlights in my hair. This annoyed me so much that I slipped some bleach into the skinny little bitch’s tea when she wasn’t looking.

Dear Nurse Ratched

My husband never puts his dish in the dishwasher when he has finished using it. I keep reminding him, but he just puts it in the sink and leaves it for me to do for him. What should I do?

Your husband is an abysmal person who doesn’t deserve the use of his arms. I suggest going through the motions of cooking a spaghetti dish, but substitute the pasta for worms and the mince for kitty litter. You could also fracture the plate so that it falls apart on his lap and spills scalding hot food all over his legs. If that doesn’t work you should kill yourself.

Dear Nurse Ratched

My son won’t stop using bubble gum to blow bubbles and then let them burst all over his mouth. What should I do?

Your son is a monster. Soak his trainers in petrol whilst he is asleep and then wait for him to start blowing a bubble the next day. He won’t be able to see you, so nip in under the radar and set his shoes alight. Then, you could replace the bubble-gums themselves with blobs of quick-drying cement and watch with glee as he develops lockjaw and the panic on his face is something you will never forget… and neither will he for that matter. If that doesn’t work, you should kill yourself.

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30 responses to “Nurse Ratched returns

  1. kickingsport 11/26/2011 at 9:09 AM

    Have been waiting for her calming words to return for some time. Amazing how her advice can make all the troubles float away!

  2. motherventing 11/26/2011 at 10:04 AM

    I can’t stand noisy bubble gum chewers. Well, noisy eaters in general. I seriously want to punch them in their mouths, but your way is much better, Nurse Ratched. *grabs petrol can* *leaves house determinedly*

  3. Random Female Blog 11/26/2011 at 11:19 AM

    It got so far that I start smiling when seeing you face, Nurse Ratched.

  4. Becoming Bitter 11/26/2011 at 1:26 PM

    Dear Nurse Ratched,

    You are one f*cked up woman! I like it. Please come over to my mansion so I can Avada Kedavra you. I’ll teach you the meaning of that word too. If that doesn’t kil- I mean work… you could always kill yourself. I’ll even take it one step further than you have. I’ll suggest the best suicide route for you. Give yourself a potassium cyanide injection.

    Sincerely,

    Bitter

    PS. I give more awesome advice.

    • Michael Cargill 11/26/2011 at 3:23 PM

      Generally speaking I have no desire to socialise with my patients and you are no different in this regard. I find your worship of all things death related unwarranted and sinful.

      Cheers

      Nurse Ratched.

      • Becoming Bitter 11/26/2011 at 3:29 PM

        Dear Ratched,

        I do not worship things related to death. I accept and welcome them. There is a difference my dear and I would be happy to teach that to you. The only thing sinful and unwarranted is your advice.

        Sincerely,

        Go-Kill-Yourself!

  5. mooselicker 11/26/2011 at 2:39 PM

    Well, it looks like I’m not coming over to your place for dinner next week then. Not that I was invited. Thought I’d drop by unexpectedly as a surprise.

  6. April Trice 11/26/2011 at 2:44 PM

    I smell rotten anger all over your un-loved ass.

  7. tootsiewoo 11/27/2011 at 8:09 AM

    Ratched,
    I personally feel the husband who doesn’t know how to clean up after himself needs a worse punishment than worm-poop pasta. Perhaps having his eyes taped open and forcing him to watch “Gigli” staring Jennifer Lopez would be fitting. Or a good spanking with a piece of barbed wire might to the trick.

    I hate you,

    Concerned

    • April Trice 11/27/2011 at 1:55 PM

      Ratched:
      Now hear this. There IS such a thing as love, soul mates, unicorns and fairies. I’m sorry that bad things happened to you as a child, preventing you from believing in such things. I mourn for your soul and its maggot-infested contents.
      ~A.

    • Michael Cargill 11/28/2011 at 8:55 AM

      Toots, for the first time in a long while I have found someone who is speaking from the same page as me. Maybe April Trice is right, there is such a thing as a soul mate.

      Don’t you dare start your own advice column though, I don’t take kindly to competition.

      Cheers

      Nurse Ratched.

  8. afrankangle 11/27/2011 at 10:30 PM

    And wouldn’t the world be a better place if Nurse Rached ruled it.

  9. Anna 11/27/2011 at 11:16 PM

    Decent advice as always. I shall take it with me and apply it to any other situation, as killing yourself is always a fitting conclusion to most things.

  10. sami116 11/28/2011 at 2:45 PM

    Dear Nurse Ratched,
    I have been having an itch on my behind all week. No matter how much I try it won’t go away. I also think it has something to do with my lousy neighbors. What should I do?

    • Michael Cargill 11/28/2011 at 3:07 PM

      I would recommend covering your ‘behind’ with honey and then lying underneath a wasp’s nest for a while. Alternatively you could just sit in the oven for an hour or so.

      Make sure you set the neighbour’s house on fire and then kill yourself if that doesn’t fix it.

      Cheers

      Nurse Ratched.

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