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Pastimes : Laughter is the Best Medicine - Tell us a joke -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Karen Lawrence who wrote (12786)	12/8/1999 2:05:00 PM
From: Calvin Scott	Respond to of 62558

WHAT DO ANGELS LOOK LIKE? Like the little old lady who returned your wallet yesterday. Like the taxi driver who told you that your eyes light up the world, when you smile. Like the small child who showed you the wonder in simple things. Like the poor man who offered to share his lunch with you. Like the rich man who showed you that it really is all possible, if only you believe. Like the stranger who just happened to come along, when you had lost your way. Like the friend who touched your heart, when you didn't think you had one to touch. Angels come in all sizes and shapes, all ages and skin types. Some with freckles, some with dimples, some with wrinkles, some without. They come disguised as friends, enemies, teachers, students, lovers and fools. They don't take life too seriously, they travel light. They leave no forwarding address, they ask nothing in return. They wear sneakers with gossamer wings, they get a deal on dry cleaning. They are hard to find when your eyes are closed, But they are everywhere you look, when you choose to see.

To: Karen Lawrence who wrote (12786)	12/8/1999 2:21:00 PM
From: Calvin Scott	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 62558

The Worst Death Three guys had recently died and were awaiting entrance into Heaven. But St. Peter appeared and informed them that, unfortunately, Heaven was only allowing 33% of applicants in today, due to overpopulation. So, only one of the three would be allowed in. Whomever died the worst death out of the three would be let in. St. Peter took the first man aside in private, and let him tell his story: "For months I had been suspecting that my wife had been cheating on me. So, one day, I decided to leave home from work early and try to catch her in the act. But when I arrived home, she was in the shower. Suspicious, I searched the house for anybody. And then I found him: He was hanging off my 25th floor balcony hoping I wouldn't see him! Fortunately, there was a hammer nearby and I bashed his fingers. He fell, but he didn't die! Outraged, I grabbed my refrigerator and chucked it down on him. It killed him instantly. But then I felt so bad about it, I took a gun and killed myself." St. Peter thought this was certainly a decent death, and took the second guy aside to hear his story: "O.K. I live on the 27th floor of my apartment building, and I was out on my balcony getting some fresh air. I yawned and took in a big stretch, and I lost my balance! I fell over the balcony, but--I was so lucky--I managed to grab another room's balcony a couple of stories down. But then, for some reason, this guy came out and bashed my hands with a hammer. I guess he was mad I was hanging off his deck. Anyway, I fell about 25 stories down, but luckier still, I wasn't dead. But as I looked up, I saw that a refrigerator was on its way down to bash me. That's how I died." St. Peter thought this death was quite tragic, but still took the third guy aside to hear his story. The third guy started: "Picture this. You're hiding, naked, in a refrigerator..."