We need a little laugh once-in-awhile:
A true story told by L.A.P.D.
>> >
>> > An old Mexican man lived alone in East Los Angeles.
>> > He wanted to spade his garden, but it was very hard
>> > work. His only son, Jose, who used to help him was in
>> > prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and
>> > described his predicament.
>> >
>> > Dear Jose:
>> > I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't
>> > be able to plant my garden this year. I'm just too old
>> > to be digging up a garden. If you were here, all my
>> > troubles would be over. I know you would dig the
>> > garden for me.
>> > Tu Padre > >
>> > A few days later, he received a letter from his son.
>> > Dear Papa:
>> > Por Dios, Papa, don't dig up the garden. That's
>> > where I buried all my drugs and money.
>> > Tu hijo,
>> > Jose
>> >
>> > At 6 a.m. the next morning, the L.A. Sheriffs showed
>> > up and dug up the entire area without finding any
>> > drugs or money. They apologized to the old man and
>> > left. That same day, the old man received another
>> > letter from his son.
>> >
>> > Dear Papa:
>> > Go ahead and plant your garden now, papa. It's the
>> > best I could do under the circumstances.
>> > Love,
>> &g! t; Jose XOXO
Philski
Philski writes:
>We need a little laugh once-in-awhile:
>
>A true story told by L.A.P.D.
>
> >> >
> >> > An old Mexican man lived alone in East Los Angeles.
> >> > He wanted to spade his garden, but it was very hard
> >> > work. His only son, Jose, who used to help him was in
> >> > prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and
> >> > described his predicament.
> >> >
> >> > Dear Jose:
> >> > I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't
> >> > be able to plant my garden this year. I'm just too old
> >> > to be digging up a garden. If you were here, all my
> >> > troubles would be over. I know you would dig the
> >> > garden for me.
> >> > Tu Padre > >
> >> > A few days later, he received a letter from his son.
> >> > Dear Papa:
> >> > Por Dios, Papa, don't dig up the garden. That's
> >> > where I buried all my drugs and money.
> >> > Tu hijo,
> >> > Jose
> >> >
> >> > At 6 a.m. the next morning, the L.A. Sheriffs showed
> >> > up and dug up the entire area without finding any
> >> > drugs or money. They apologized to the old man and
> >> > left. That same day, the old man received another
> >> > letter from his son.
> >> >
> >> > Dear Papa:
> >> > Go ahead and plant your garden now, papa. It's the
> >> > best I could do under the circumstances.
> >> > Love,
> >> &g! t; Jose XOXO
First time I heard this one, it was the redneck's momma writing to him in
prison, somewhere in the SE U.S.
Charlie Self
"Half of the American people have never read a newspaper. Half never voted for
President. One hopes it is the same half." Gore Vidal
In article <[email protected]>, Charlie Self
<[email protected]> wrote:
> First time I heard this one, it was the redneck's momma writing to him in
> prison, somewhere in the SE U.S.
First time for me was the IRA version, LMAO, as I recall.
djb
On step #3, I'd recommend wearing a falconer's glove 'cause that
"smooth movement" is easier said than done.....
"George" <george@least> wrote in message news:<[email protected]>...
> HOW TO CLEAN A TOILET
>
[snip]>
> 3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both
> lids. You may need to stand on the lid.
>
[snip]
On Thu, 23 Sep 2004 00:14:05 GMT, "Philski"
<[email protected]> calmly ranted:
>> We need a little laugh once-in-awhile:
>>
>> A true story told by L.A.P.D.
-snip-
I'll see you and raise you one from my email box today:
DEAD OF SUMMER
In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake.
The hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular, "Gosh... if I go
down
three inches ... I will feel the mist from the water and I will be
refreshed."
There was a fish in the water thinking, "Gosh...if that fly goes down
three inches, I can eat him."
There was a bear on the shore thinking, "Gosh...if that fly goes down
three inches that fish will jump for the fly...and I will grab him."
It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake
preparing to eat a cheese sandwich.... "Gosh," he thought, "if that
fly
goes down three inches...and that fish leaps for it...that bear will
expose himself and grab for the fish. I'll shoot the bear and have a
proper lunch."
You probably think this is enough activity on one bank of a lake, but
I
can tell you there's more....
A wee mouse by the hunter's foot was thinking, "Gosh... if that fly
goes
down three inches...and that fish jumps for that fly... and that bear
grabs for that fish...the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his
cheese sandwich."
A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was
fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunch
time
~ "Gosh...if that fly goes down three inches...and that fish jumps for
that fly... and that bear grabs for that fish and that hunter shoots
that bear...and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich... then
I
can have mouse for lunch."
The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the
cooling mist of the water. The fish swallows the fly...the bear grabs
the fish... the hunter shoots the bear...
the mouse grabs the cheese sandwich...the cat jumps for the mouse...
the mouse ducks... the cat falls into the water and drowns.
The moral of the story is:
Whenever a fly goes down three inches ....
some pussy is in serious danger.
--------------------------------------------------
I survived the D.C. Blizzard of 2003 (from Oregon)
----------------------------
http://diversify.com Comprehensive Website Development
--------------------------------------------------------
HOW TO CLEAN A TOILET
1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the
water in the bowl.
2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the
bathroom.
3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both
lids. You may need to stand on the lid.
4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises
that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.
5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a "power-wash"
and rinse".
6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are
no people between the bathroom and the front door.
7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids.
8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom,
and run outside where he will dry himself off.
9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.
Sincerely,
The Dog
And now we know why the cat was outdoors.
"Robert Bonomi" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
>
> " ... And there you have it, folks --- the *rest* of the story."
>
>
>
In article <[email protected]>,
Larry Jaques <novalidaddress@di\/ersify.com> wrote:
>On Thu, 23 Sep 2004 00:14:05 GMT, "Philski"
><[email protected]> calmly ranted:
>
>>> We need a little laugh once-in-awhile:
>>>
>>> A true story told by L.A.P.D.
>-snip-
>
>I'll see you and raise you one from my email box today:
>
>
>DEAD OF SUMMER
>
>In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake.
>
>The hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular, "Gosh... if I go
>down
>three inches ... I will feel the mist from the water and I will be
>refreshed."
>
>There was a fish in the water thinking, "Gosh...if that fly goes down
>three inches, I can eat him."
>
>There was a bear on the shore thinking, "Gosh...if that fly goes down
>three inches that fish will jump for the fly...and I will grab him."
>
>It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake
>preparing to eat a cheese sandwich.... "Gosh," he thought, "if that
>fly
>goes down three inches...and that fish leaps for it...that bear will
>expose himself and grab for the fish. I'll shoot the bear and have a
>proper lunch."
>
>You probably think this is enough activity on one bank of a lake, but
>I
>can tell you there's more....
>
>A wee mouse by the hunter's foot was thinking, "Gosh... if that fly
>goes
>down three inches...and that fish jumps for that fly... and that bear
>grabs for that fish...the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his
>cheese sandwich."
>
>A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was
>fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunch
>time
>~ "Gosh...if that fly goes down three inches...and that fish jumps for
>that fly... and that bear grabs for that fish and that hunter shoots
>that bear...and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich... then
>I
>can have mouse for lunch."
>
>The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the
>cooling mist of the water. The fish swallows the fly...the bear grabs
>the fish... the hunter shoots the bear...
>the mouse grabs the cheese sandwich...the cat jumps for the mouse...
>the mouse ducks... the cat falls into the water and drowns.
>
And, now, as Paul Harvey says... "... for the _rest_ of the story."
Poor tabby was a dearly beloved pet, and the family was absolutely broken-
hearted over her demise. So, the body was recovered from the lake, and
taken to a taxidermist for preservation. Unfortunately, between the actions
of the denizens of the lake, and some careless handling en route, the frontal
portions had been damaged beyond repair. The taxidermist did the best he
could with what he had to work with, mounting the hindquarters on a nice
plank of walnut (obwoodoworking content), and inscribing a brass insert with
the the name, and date of demise.
The family was less than thrilled with the outcome of the effort, but, after
some contemplation, decided that it was an appropriate marker for the episode.
There was no argument, from anyone, that the ultimate result of the fly
slipping down was a cat-ass trophy.
" ... And there you have it, folks --- the *rest* of the story."
On Fri, 24 Sep 2004 03:26:52 +0000, [email protected]
(Robert Bonomi) calmly ranted:
-megasnip-
>The family was less than thrilled with the outcome of the effort, but, after
>some contemplation, decided that it was an appropriate marker for the episode.
>
>There was no argument, from anyone, that the ultimate result of the fly
>slipping down was a cat-ass trophy.
>
>" ... And there you have it, folks --- the *rest* of the story."
And a fitting END it is, Bobbonommi.
--------------------------------------------------------
Murphy was an Optimist
----------------------------
http://diversify.com Comprehensive Website Development
On Wed, 22 Sep 2004 00:30:59 -0600, Dave Balderstone
<dave@N_O_T_T_H_I_S.balderstone.ca> wrote:
>In article <[email protected]>, Charlie Self
><[email protected]> wrote:
>
>> First time I heard this one, it was the redneck's momma writing to him in
>> prison, somewhere in the SE U.S.
>
>First time for me was the IRA version, LMAO, as I recall.
There is also a version with drugs hidden in a block of wood in the
woodpile. The agents come a split all the wood looking for it. That
one wouldn't even need an "OT" :-)
Tim Douglass
http://www.DouglassClan.com
Actually, I heard this in a few slight different versions, but it has been
quite a while. Just forwarded to friends. Thanks.
Preston
"Philski" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> We need a little laugh once-in-awhile:
>
> A true story told by L.A.P.D.
>
> >> >
> >> > An old Mexican man lived alone in East Los Angeles.
> >> > He wanted to spade his garden, but it was very hard
> >> > work. His only son, Jose, who used to help him was in
> >> > prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and
> >> > described his predicament.
> >> >
> >> > Dear Jose:
> >> > I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won't
> >> > be able to plant my garden this year. I'm just too old
> >> > to be digging up a garden. If you were here, all my
> >> > troubles would be over. I know you would dig the
> >> > garden for me.
> >> > Tu Padre > >
> >> > A few days later, he received a letter from his son.
> >> > Dear Papa:
> >> > Por Dios, Papa, don't dig up the garden. That's
> >> > where I buried all my drugs and money.
> >> > Tu hijo,
> >> > Jose
> >> >
> >> > At 6 a.m. the next morning, the L.A. Sheriffs showed
> >> > up and dug up the entire area without finding any
> >> > drugs or money. They apologized to the old man and
> >> > left. That same day, the old man received another
> >> > letter from his son.
> >> >
> >> > Dear Papa:
> >> > Go ahead and plant your garden now, papa. It's the
> >> > best I could do under the circumstances.
> >> > Love,
> >> &g! t; Jose XOXO
>
>
> Philski
>
Since we have been focused on hurricane season on the Gulf Coast, Houston
has issued the official Houston 2004 Hurricane Evacuation Plan:
Hispanics use I-10 West to San Antonio
Cajuns use I-10 East to Lafayette
Rednecks use 59 North to East Texas
Republicans fly Continental to Washington DC
Yankees and Democrats use 45 South to Galveston
Longhorns use 290 West to Austin
Aggies use the 610 Loop
--
www.e-woodshop.net
Last update: 7/10/04
that was bad........
Robert Bonomi wrote:
> In article <[email protected]>,
> Larry Jaques <novalidaddress@di\/ersify.com> wrote:
>
>>On Thu, 23 Sep 2004 00:14:05 GMT, "Philski"
>><[email protected]> calmly ranted:
>>
>>
>>>>We need a little laugh once-in-awhile:
>>>>
>>>>A true story told by L.A.P.D.
>>
>>-snip-
>>
>>I'll see you and raise you one from my email box today:
>>
>>
>>DEAD OF SUMMER
>>
>>In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake.
>>
>>The hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular, "Gosh... if I go
>>down
>>three inches ... I will feel the mist from the water and I will be
>>refreshed."
>>
>>There was a fish in the water thinking, "Gosh...if that fly goes down
>>three inches, I can eat him."
>>
>>There was a bear on the shore thinking, "Gosh...if that fly goes down
>>three inches that fish will jump for the fly...and I will grab him."
>>
>>It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake
>>preparing to eat a cheese sandwich.... "Gosh," he thought, "if that
>>fly
>>goes down three inches...and that fish leaps for it...that bear will
>>expose himself and grab for the fish. I'll shoot the bear and have a
>>proper lunch."
>>
>>You probably think this is enough activity on one bank of a lake, but
>>I
>>can tell you there's more....
>>
>>A wee mouse by the hunter's foot was thinking, "Gosh... if that fly
>>goes
>>down three inches...and that fish jumps for that fly... and that bear
>>grabs for that fish...the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his
>>cheese sandwich."
>>
>>A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was
>>fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunch
>>time
>>~ "Gosh...if that fly goes down three inches...and that fish jumps for
>>that fly... and that bear grabs for that fish and that hunter shoots
>>that bear...and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich... then
>>I
>>can have mouse for lunch."
>>
>>The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the
>>cooling mist of the water. The fish swallows the fly...the bear grabs
>>the fish... the hunter shoots the bear...
>>the mouse grabs the cheese sandwich...the cat jumps for the mouse...
>>the mouse ducks... the cat falls into the water and drowns.
>>
>
>
> And, now, as Paul Harvey says... "... for the _rest_ of the story."
>
> Poor tabby was a dearly beloved pet, and the family was absolutely broken-
> hearted over her demise. So, the body was recovered from the lake, and
> taken to a taxidermist for preservation. Unfortunately, between the actions
> of the denizens of the lake, and some careless handling en route, the frontal
> portions had been damaged beyond repair. The taxidermist did the best he
> could with what he had to work with, mounting the hindquarters on a nice
> plank of walnut (obwoodoworking content), and inscribing a brass insert with
> the the name, and date of demise.
>
> The family was less than thrilled with the outcome of the effort, but, after
> some contemplation, decided that it was an appropriate marker for the episode.
>
> There was no argument, from anyone, that the ultimate result of the fly
> slipping down was a cat-ass trophy.
>
> " ... And there you have it, folks --- the *rest* of the story."
>
>
>
On Tue, 21 Sep 2004 21:04:29 -0600, Philski wrote:
>A true story told by L.A.P.D.
>> >
> >> > An old Mexican man lived alone in East Los Angeles.
> >> > He wanted to spade his garden, but it was very hard
> >> > work. His only son, Jose, who used to help him was in
> >> > prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and
> >> > described his predicament.
First time I heard this one it was an Irishman needing potatoes dug; son
was IRA. Most recently, was a Palestinian; son in Israeli jail. Not a
true story, but that's LAPD for you...
--
"Keep your ass behind you"