[cobra de capell]

Bill worked in a pickle factory.
He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day
To confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion.
He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer.
His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill said he would be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.
One day a few weeks later, Bill came home and his wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong.
'What's wrong, Bill?' she asked.
'Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?'
'Oh, Bill, you didn't' she exclaimed.
'Yes, I did.' he replied.

'My God, Bill, what happened?'

'I got fired.'
'No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?'
'Oh...she got fired too.'
_____

How many Country Music singers does it take to change a light bulb

Two - One to change it, the other to sing about how good the old one was
_____

You know what happens when you play a country music song backwards?

The guys dog comes back, his wife comes back, he gets his farm and his truck back.....
_____

From Buddy Bear's Diary (Patty's dog)

8:00 am - Breakfast! My favorite thing!
9:00 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - Visited Mom's Clients! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got hugs and snacks! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Visited More Clients! My favorite thing! Mom's too!
1:00 pm - Played With Stuffed Animals! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Visited Even More Clients! Mom's & My favorite thing!
5:30 pm - Went to the Store! My favorite thing!
6:30 pm - Dinner! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Got to walk around the neighborhood! My favorite thing!
9:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with Mom! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!


From a Cat's Diary

Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. B#stards.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...