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

To: PJ who wrote (9055)	3/26/1999 12:34:00 AM
From: Jay	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 62549

Gentlemen: I have just received your super heated letter in regard to the bill I owe you. You said the bill should have been paid long ago and you didn't understand why it wasn't. Well, I'll enlighten you. In 1932 I bought a sawmill on credit; in 1934 I bought an ox team, a timber cart, two ponies, a shotgun, a Winchester, a Colt revolver, and five Razorback hogs, all on credit. In 1937, the sawmill burned down and didn't leave a damned thing; one of the ponies died and the other I loaned to a son of a bi**h who starved him to death. In 1940, my father died and mother was hung for horse stealing. A mechanic named Joe knocked up my daughter and I had to pay the Doctors bill $88.32 to keep the little bastard from becoming a relative of mine. In 1944, my son had the mumps and when they went down on him the doctor had to castrate him to save his life. That summer I went fishing and my boat toppled over and I lost the biggest catfish you ever saw, and one of my sons drowned--not the castrated one. In 1948, my wife ran away with a heavy hung golfer and left me with three small children as a souvenir. I married the hired girl to keep down expenses. I had trouble getting her off, the Doctor told me to try creating some excitement just as she was beginning to come. That night I took the shotgun to bed with me and just as she was beginning to come, I pointed it out the window and pulled the trigger. Well, she shit in bed, I ruptured myself and killed the best damned milk cow I ever had. The next year my troubles really started! My wife caught the claps from the iceman, my son wipes his ass on a corn cob with rat poison on it and somebody de-nutted my bull. In 1952, I decided to go into another business of my own. I ordered six bee hives from Sears and Roebucks. I bought a swarm of bees and a Queen bee, all on the installment plan. The Queen bee died and I ordered another one. She turned out to be a whore and started flying around with a horsefly and the honey tasted like horse shit and I couldn't sell it. SO, NOW GENTLEMEN, you say if I don't pay you, you will cause me trouble. Right now, if it cost 2 cents to shit, I would have to puke. Getting money out of me would be like trying to poke butter up a wildcat's ass with a hot poker, but you're welcome to try. Yours for more credit, I.Owe You Sum