John the farmer was in the fertilized egg business. He had several
hundred young layers (hens), called "pullets", and ten roosters, whose
job it was to fertilize the eggs.

The farmer kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into
the soup pot and was replaced. That took an awful lot of his time, so he
bought a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell
had a different tone so John could tell from a distance, which rooster
was performing. Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency
report simply by listening to the bells.

The farmer's favorite rooster was old Butch, a very fine specimen he
was, too. But on this particular morning John noticed old Butch's bell
hadn't rung at all! John went to investigate. The other roosters were
chasing pullets, bells- a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters
coming, would run for cover.

But to Farmer John's amazement, old Butch had his bell in his beak, so
it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to
the next one. John was so proud of old Butch, he entered him in the
Renfrew County Fair and he became an overnight sensation among the
judges. The result...The judges not only awarded old Butch the No Bell
Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well.
Clearly old Butch was a politician in the making: who else but a
politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted
awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace
and screwing them when they weren't paying attention.


Vote carefully...the bells are not always audible!

This year I can't vote strictly along a party line. I don't feel like any of the candidates reflect my views!!!

Peace to you,
Vicky

This man wakes up after some special tests in a private room at the
hospital, and the phone by his bed rings.


"This is your doctor," says the voice on the phone.
"We have the results back from the lab. I'm sorry to report that you
have an extremely contagious deadly disease known as G.A.S.H."
"G.A.S.H?" replies the man. "What in the hell is that?"
"It's a combination of Gonorrhea, AIDS, SARS, and Herpes," explains the
doctor.


"My gosh, Doc!" screams the man in a panic, "what are we going to do?"
"Well, we're going to put you in isolation and give you a strict diet
of pizza, pancakes, quesadillas, and pita bread," says the doctor
matter-of-factly.


"Will that cure me?" "Well, no," says the doctor, "but it's the
only food that will fit under the door."

One afternoon, a man went to his doctor and told him that he hasn't been feeling well lately. The doctor examined the man, left the room, and came back with three different bottles of pills.

The doctor said, "Take the green pill with a big glass of water when you wake up. Take the blue pill with a big glass of water after you eat lunch. Then just before going to bed, take the red pill with another big glass of water."

Startled to be put on so much medicine, the man stammered, "Jeez Doc, exactly what is my problem?"

The doctor replied, "You're not drinking enough water."

An old Arab lived close to New York City for more than 40 years.
One day, he decided that he would love to plant some herbs in his garden,
but he knew he was alone and too old and weak.
His son was in college in Paris, so the old man sent him an e-mail explaining the problem:
'Beloved son, I am very sad, because I can't plant any herbs in my garden.
I am sure, if only you were here, that you would help me and dig up the garden for me.
I love you, your father.'
The following day, the old man received a response e-mail from his son:
'Beloved father, please don't touch the garden.
That is where I have hidden 'THE THING.'
I love you, too, Ahmed.'
At 4am the FBI and the Rangers visited the house of the old man and took the whole garden apart,
searching every inch. But they couldn't find anything.
Disappointed, they left the house.
The next day, the old man received another e-mail from his son:
'Beloved father, I hope the garden is dug up by now and you can plant your herbs.
That is all I could do for you from here. Your loving son, Ahmed'.

funny one imark!

paula