Three Boy Scouts, were fishing in a boat one day when they heard a lot of commotion. They followed the sounds and found another boat capsized as a man struggled to keep his head above water. Being Boy Scouts, they went to his aid and fished the man out.
The man was Bill Clinton. The ex-president toweled himself off and caught his breath, and thanked the three scouts. He asked if there was anything he could do for them. "I'd sure like a tour of the White House," the first scout said. "Can you still pull that off?"
"No problem," said Bill. "How's next week?"
"I want to go for a ride in Air Force One," said the second scout.
"We can do that next week, too," Bill replied.
"I'd like to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery," said the third.
"I'm sure we can arrange that," said Bill. "But son, you're awfully young to be worrying about that, aren't you?"
"You don't know my Dad," the scout replied. "When he finds out I helped save your life, he's gonna кill me!"
Cousin It was getting tired of being just the hired hand around the Addams family household. The family had moved to the feudal nation of Armenia and It decided to run for feudal lord. While not quite a democracy, elections were still the path to choosing the next leader who would exercise power and authority over the nation.
With Gomez, Morticia and Festus fiercely campaigning for their beloved candidate, election day arrived. The precincts opened, ballots were cast, and the votes were counted. The polls had showed a close contest between the four candidates running, but when the final tally was announced, Cousin It had received the most votes.
With all the Addams family and his supporters cheering him on, Cousin It was beside himself as he approached the podium.
"I won! I won!" It screamed. "Bring me the wine. I'm serving!"
With glass raised, Gomez shouted, "When IT reigns, IT pours!"
Politically correct terms for cat owners:
- My cat does not ваrf hairballs, he is a floor/rug re-decorator.
- My cat does not break things, she helps gravity do its job.
- My cat does not fear dogs, they are merely sprint practice tools.
- My cat does not gobble, she eats with alacrity.
- My cat does not scratch, he is a furniture/rug/skin ventilator.
- My cat is not a "shedding machine," she is a hair relocation stylist.
- My cat is not a "treat-seeking missile," she enjoys the proximity of food.
- My cat is not a chatterbox, she is advising me on what to do next.
- My cat is not a dope addict, she is catnip appreciative.
- My cat is not a ruthless hunter, she is a wildlife control expert.
- My cat is not evil, she is badness enhanced.
- My cat is not fат, he is mass enhanced.
- My cat is not hydrophobic, she has an inability to appreciate moisture.
- My cat is not underfoot, she is shepherding me to my next destination
(which should always be the food dish).
Here is an exchange between a mother and son in a Section 8 household. (There are never any father - son exchanges in a Section 8 household because the fathers have long since disappeared.)
…
“Momma, what be ‘Socialism’?”
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“Well, son, Socialism is when white folks go to work every day so we can get all our benefits, like free cell phones for each family member, rent subsidy, food stamps, EMC, free healthcare, utility subsidy, free computers and Internet connection, free food, free clothing, free gifts at Christmas, and on and on.
…
That be Socialism”.
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“But Mama, don’t the white people get upset about that?”
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“Sure they do son; that be called Racism!”