How Much Wood Would a Woodchuck Chuck How much wood would a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Before you start reading it, just recall all the chain mail you have received so far in your life!! I want to thank all of you who have taken the time and trouble to send me your damn chain letters over the past few years. Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of what's left of my heart for making me feel safe, secure, blessed, and wealthy. Because of your concern...I no longer can drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains. I no longer drink anything out of a can because I will get sick from the rat feces and urine. I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer. I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS. I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day I no longer use margarine because it's one molecule away from being plastic. I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me. I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise. I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a stupid number for which I will get the phone bill from hell with calls to Jamaica , Uganda , Singapore , and Uzbekistan . I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers. I no longer date the opposite *** because they will take my kidneys and leave me taking a nap in a bathtub full of ice. I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe. I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish. Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. (Geez, the BIBLE did not mention it works that way!) I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl who is about to die in the hospital (for the 1,387,258th time). I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program. Yes, I want to thank all of you soooooooo much for looking out for me! I will now return the favor. If you don't send this e-mail to at least 1200 people in the next 60 seconds, a large bird with diarrhea will crap on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas of a thousand camels will infest your armpits. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's 8th husband's 2nd cousin's 3rd husband's ex-wife's mother's beautician!
Concluding his daily White House briefing, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld says "In closing, I'm sorry to also inform you, Mr. President, that eight Brazilian soldiers were killed yesterday in Iraq." "Oh my God," says George, "I can't believe it. This is an utter catastrophe." His staff is stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as Bush slumps, head in hands. He stays that way for minutes as the others in the room wait in awkward silence. Finally hs slowly lifts his head and asks: "So just how many is a brizillion?".
Bush, Einstein and Picasso at the Pearly Gates Einstein dies and goes to heaven. At the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter tells him, "You look like Einstein, but you have NO idea the lengths that some people will go to sneak into Heaven. Can you prove who you really are?" Einstein ponders for a few seconds and asks, "Could I have a blackboard and some chalk?" Saint Peter snaps his fingers and a blackboard and chalk instantly appear. Einstein proceeds to describe with arcane mathematics and symbols his theory of relativity. Saint Peter is suitably impressed. "You really ARE Einstein!" he says. "Welcome to heaven!" The next to arrive is Picasso. Once again, Saint Peter asks for credentials. Picasso asks, "Mind if I use that blackboard and chalk?" Saint Peter says, "Go ahead." Picasso erases Einstein's equations and sketches a truly stunning mural with just a few strokes of chalk. Saint Peter claps. "Surely you are the great artist you claim to be!" he says. "Come on in!" Then Saint Peter looks up and sees George W. Bush. Saint Peter scratches his head and says, "Einstein and Picasso both managed to prove their identity. How can you prove yours?" George W. looks bewildered and says, "Who are Einstein and Picasso?" Saint Peter sighs and says, "Come on in, George."
Google "bushism." "It is clear our nation is reliant upon big foreign oil. More and more of our imports come from overseas."—Beaverton, Ore., Sep. 25, 2000 ><
Should it read as: BUSH ONE OF THE WORST DISASTERS TO HIT THE US Hahahaha...cooler that's a good one!
