Dear Sir:

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honor it. I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire pension, an arrangement which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years. You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account $30.00 by way of penalty for the inconvenience caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I personally answer your telephone calls and letters,---when I try to contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become. From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood person. My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must nominate. Be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application Contact which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) much be accompanied by documented proof. In due course, at MY convenience, I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modeled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Let me level the playing field even further. When you call me, press buttons as follows: Immediately after dialling, press the star (*) button for English. Press #1 to make an appointment to see me. Press #2 to ask a question about a missing payment. Press #3 to transfer the call to my living room in case I am there. Press #4 to transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping. Press #5 to transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature. Press #6 to transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home. Press #7 to leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer is required. The Password will be communicated to you at a later date to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier. Press #8 to return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7. Press #9 to make a general complaint or inquiry. the contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. Press #10, which is a second reminder to press * for English. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call. Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement. Sincerely your humble client.

An old country preacher had a teenage son, and it was getting time the boy should give some thought to choosing a profession. Like many y0ung men his age, the boy didn't really know what he wanted to do, and he didn't seem too concerned about it. One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. He went into the boy's room and placed on his study table four objects: A Bible, a silver dollar, a bottle of whiskey & a Playboy magazine. "I will just hide behind the door," the old preacher said to himself. "When he comes home from school today, I will see which object he picks up. If it is the Bible, he is going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be! If he picks up the dollar, he is going to be a business man, and that would be okay, too. But if he picks up the bottle, he is going to be a no good drunken bum, and Lord, what a shame that would be. And, worst of all, if he picks up that magazine he is going to be a skirt chasing womanizer." the old man waited anxiously, and soon heard his son's foot-steps as he entered the house whistling and heading for his room. The boy tossed his books on the bed, and as he turned to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table. With curiosity in his eye, he walked over to inspect them. Finally, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a big drink, while he admired the magazine's centerfold. "Lord have mercy," the old preacher disgustedly whispered. "He is going to run for Congress.!

A US Marine squad was marching north of Fallujah when they came upon an Iraqi terrost, badly injured and unconscious. On the opposite side of the road was an American marine in a similar but less serious state. The Marine was conscious and alert, and as first aid was given to both men the squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened. The Marine reported, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road. I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein was a miserable, lowlife scum bag who got what he deserved, and he yelled back that Ted Kennedy is a fat, good-for-nothing, left wing liberal drunk who soesn't know how to drive. So I said that Osama Bin Laden dresses and acts like a mean-spirited hooker! He retaliated by yelling, "Oh yeah? Well, so does Nancy Pelosi!" "And, there we were, in the middle of the road, shaking hands, when a truck hit us."