Aug
11
2010
11
2010
We’ve got dachshunds, they may be good at catching moles and chipmunks in the backyard, but they can’t do this:
Aug
11
2010
11
2010
Bob came home drunk one night, slid into bed beside his sleeping wife, and fell into a deep slumber. He awoke before the Pearly Gates, where St. Peter said, ‘You died in your sleep, Bob.’
Bob was stunned. ‘I’m dead? No, I can’t be! I’ve got too much to live for. Send me back!’
St. Peter said, ‘I’m sorry, but there’s only one way you can go back, and that is as a chicken.’
Bob was devastated, but begged St. Peter to send him to a farm near his home…. The next thing he knew, he was covered with feathers, clucking and pecking the ground. A rooster strolled past. ‘So, you’re the new hen, huh? How’s your first day here?’
‘Not bad,’ replied Bob the hen, ‘but I have this strange feeling inside. Like I’m gonna explode!’
‘You’re ovulating,’ explained the rooster. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never laid an egg before?’
‘Never,’ said Bob.
‘Well, just relax and let it happen,’ says the rooster. ‘It’s no big deal.’
He did, and a few uncomfortable seconds later, out popped an egg! He was overcome with emotion as he experienced motherhood. He soon laid another egg — his joy was overwhelming. As he was about to lay his third egg,
he felt a smack on the back of his head, and heard….. “BOB, wake up! You shit the bed!”
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