THE WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL

by JimQ916 Thu 08 Jan 2015, 5:55 am

***Jan 8th***

12 Days of Christmas

December 14, 1972

My dearest darling John:

Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a hundred times for thinking of me this way.

My love always, Agnes

December 15, 1972

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two turtle doves. I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.

All my love, Agnes

December 16, 1972

Dear John:

Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are just darling but I must insist, you've been too kind.

All my love, Agnes

December 17, 1972

Dear John:

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough. You are being too romantic.

Affectionately, Agnes

December 18, 1972

Dearest John:

What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love, Agnes

December 19, 1972

Dear John:

When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. Please stop.

Cordially, Agnes

December 20, 1972

John:

What's with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What kind of damn joke is this? There's bird poop all over the house and they never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's not funny. So stop those freaking birds.

Sincerely, Agnes

December 21, 1972

O.K. Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8 maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.

Agnes

December 22, 1972

Hey Shithead:

What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me.

You'll get yours! Agnes

December 23, 1972

You rotten prick:

Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those sluts ladies. They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned.

I'm calling the police on you! Agnes

December 24, 1972

Listen Fuckhead:

What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maids and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

Your sworn enemy, Agnes

December 25, 1972

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein, who was admitted to Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight. With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Cordially, Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

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Fox Hole

Q: What's it called when a soldier slips into a fox hole?
A: Bestiality.
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Army Hospital

An army major visits the sick soldiers, goes up to one private and asks:

"What's your problem, Soldier?"
"Chronic syphilis, Sir"
"What treatment are you getting?"
"Five minutes with the wire brush each day."
"What's your ambition?"
"To get back to the front, Sir."
"Good man." says the Major.

He goes to the next bed. "What's your problem, Soldier?"
"Chronic piles, Sir"
"What treatment are you getting?"
"Five minutes with the wire brush each day."
"What's your ambition?"
"To get back to the front, Sir."
"Good man." says the Major.

He goes to the next bed. "What's your problem, Soldier?"
"Chronic gum disease, Sir"
"What treatment are you getting?"
"Five minutes with the wire brush each day."
"What's your ambition?"
"To get the wire brush before the other two, Sir"

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