I don't remember where I got this one, but it was just too much!
Twelve Days of ChristmasWarning - Before you send all of the gifts described in the song - "The Twelve Days of Christmas" - read how it can go TERRIBLY wrong... as described by the series of letters from the recipient of such lovely Christmas gifts to the gift-giver...
I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised.
With dearest love and affection,
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtledoves. Iím just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.
All my love,
Oh, aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three French hens. They are just darling but I must insist.... you're just too kind.
Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really! They are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? Youíre being too romantic.
What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for each finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, John, all those squawking birds were beginning to get on my nerves.
All my love,
When I opened the door there were actually six geese a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. PLEASE STOP!
What's with you and those birds? Seven swans a-swimming. What kind of joke is this? There's bird crap all over the house and they never stop the racket. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep all night. IT'S NOT FUNNY. So stop with the birds.
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a-milking? It's not enough with all those birds and eight maids a-milking, but they had to bring their own cows. There is cow poop all over the lawn and I canít move in my own house. Just lay off me. SMART-ASS!
What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers piping. And man do they pipe. They haven't stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are upset are stepping all over those screeching birds. No wonder they screech. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me.
You'll get yours,
You Rotten Dick:
Now there's ten ladies dancing - I don't know why I call those women ladies. They've been with those nine pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of cow dung. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm sic'ing the police on you. They know where you are.
One who means it,
What's with the eleven lords a-leaping on those maids and aforementioned "ladies"? Some of those broads will never walk again.
Those pipers ran through the maids and are now after the cows. All 234 of the birds are dead. They have been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten swine.
Your sworn enemy,
Miss Agnes McCallister
From the law offices of Dewey, Cheatem and Howe
This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve drummers drumming, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McCallister. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McCallister at Happy-Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.
Dewey, Cheatem and Howe
You gotta stay with me on this one!!
Question: What is the truest definition of Globalization?
Answer: Princess Diana's death.
Question: How come?
Answer: An English princess with an Egyptian boyfriend, crashes in a French tunnel, driving a German car with a Dutch engine, driven by a Belgian who was drunk on Scottish whiskey, followed closely by Italian Paparazzi, on Japanese motorcycles, treated by an American doctor, using Brazilian medicines!
And this is sent to you by an Armenian, using Bill Gates' technology, and you're probably reading this on one of the IBM clones, that use Taiwanese-made chips, and a Korean-made monitor, assembled by Bangladeshi workers, in a Singapore plant, transported by lorries driven by Indians, hijacked by Indonesians, unloaded by Sicilian longshoremen, trucked by Mexican illegals, and finally sold to you.
That, my friend, is Globalization!
Cheaper Than Thou
by Mary Roach
My husband, Ed, once called me
the cheapest person in the world. I believe this was around the time he
discovered that every night I remove my eyeliner with the end of a Q-tip and
then set it aside to use the other end the following night. Ed was
appalled. "Do you rinse and reuse your dental floss too?"
I gave him a look of utmost scorn, though it's possible he saw through the scorn to the little light shining behind it, the light that said, "Wow, great idea!"
I know for a fact that I'm not the cheapest person in the world, because it's a matter of record--Guinness record, to be specific--that the world's greatest miser was Hetty Green. And do you know what the Guinness Book of World Records cited as evidence of her miserliness? She saved scraps of soap.
And who in our house saves scraps of soap? That would be Ed. When the bar of soap gets so tiny that you can't wash without it crumbling like feta cheese inside your underarms, Ed will take the delicate sliver and fuse it onto the new bar of soap. I can recall the first time I saw this. It was touching in a way, the little infant soap clinging to its mother's back like a baby monkey. The charm wore off over the course of umpteen showers during which the sliver would repeatedly dislodge from its host, forcing me to stand under the water for five minutes at a time fusing it back into place, wasting precious pennies' worth of water--pennies that could be put to good use buying six months' worth of Q-tips.
In Ed's case, it's hereditary. I will always remember the sight of Ed's dad, Bill, eating a salad dressed from a gallon vat of dressing purchased at Costco.
He had bought the largest size because it was the most economical, but as it turned out, he hated the taste of it. Ed encouraged him to throw it away.
"I bought it," he said, chewing miserably, "and I'm going to finish it." This was in 1997. Every time we visit, we check in the refrigerator for the Dressing of Bill's Discontent, marking off his progress in half-inch increments.
We figure his sentence will be up around 2030. We're hoping that he lives that long, first because we love him dearly, and second, because if he doesn't, that means Ed and I will have to bring it home and finish it. Otherwise it would be a waste of perfectly good dressing, "perfectly good" here meaning "not immediately life-threatening." And when the bottom of the evil vat is finally in sight, one of us will turn it upside down, to be sure not a drop goes to waste. We had a honey jar upside down on the breakfast table for the better part of a decade. "Pass the YENOH," Ed would say.
I'd be hard-pressed to say who's more pa-thetic, Ed or me. We both make ourselves feel better by berating the other person. Ed takes great joy in reminding me of the time a car salesman told me I was the first person he'd ever met who ordered a car with NO extras. I, in turn, take great joy in watching Ed rummage through his box of stray, salvaged screws in a predictably hopeless effort to find one that fits.
Yesterday Ed caught me using the Water Miser dishwasher option (I prefer the term Water Conservationist) even though there were dirty, greasy pots inside. I tried to explain that by adding a little extra soap, I could make up the lost cleaning power. Perhaps this might be a good use for those little slivers of bar soap. Ed told me I had a screw loose.
It's possible he's right. And when it falls out, we know where to look for a replacement.
Lone Ranger's Reply
The Lone Ranger and Tonto went camping in the desert. After they got their tent all set up, they fell sound asleep.
Some hours later, Tonto wakes the Lone Ranger and says, "Kemo Sabi, look towards sky, what you see?"
The Lone Ranger replies, "I see millions of stars."
"What that tell you?" asked Tonto.
The Lone Ranger ponders for a minute, then says, "Astronomically speaking, it tells me there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, it tells me Saturn is in Leo. Time wise it appears to be approximately a quarter past three in the morning. Theologically, it's evident the Lord is all-powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What's it tell you, Tonto?"
Tonto is silent for a moment, then says, "Kemo Sabi, you dumb cowboy. It tell me someone has stolen tent."
Barbara Walters of 20/20 did a story on gender roles in Kabul, Afghanistan, several years before the Afghan conflict. She noted that women customarily walked 5 paces behind their husbands.
She recently returned to Kabul and observed that women still walk behind their husbands. From Ms. Walters' vantage point, despite the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime, the women now seem to walk even further back behind their husbands and are happy to maintain the old custom.
Ms. Walters approached one of the Afghani women and asked, "Why do you now seem happy with the old custom that you once tried so desperately to change?"
The woman looked Ms. Walters straight in the eyes, and without hesitation, said, "Land mines."
MORAL OF THE STORY: BEHIND EVERY MAN IS A SMART WOMAN!!
God speaks to us
A friend of mine was having a bit of marital tension in his household and was trying to figure out just what to do about it.
In the course of our conversation, I happened to mention to him that: "You know, quite often God speaks to us through our wives."
My friend looked at me kinda funny and said, "Wow! I didn't know God used that kind of language!"
These just had to come under humor; they fit under both cats and dogs!
A tough old cowboy
once counseled his grandson that if he wanted to live a long life, the
secret was to sprinkle a pinch of gunpowder on his oatmeal every
The grandson did this religiously and lived to the age of 110.
He left 4 children, 20 grand-children, 30 great grandchildren, 10 great-great-grand-children and a fifty-foot hole where the crematorium used to be.
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming,
"WOW! What a ride!!"
(The following may or may not be true--I never found it on Snopes--, but it's still hilarious!)