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10-07-2014, 08:30 AM
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#1 |
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Life, Liberty, Happiness
Join Date: Feb 2010
First Name: Marc
Location: Splitting time between Dayton, NJ and Needmore, PA
Posts: 360
Trading: (0)
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Kidnapped
Back in the 1980's, on Friday nights at Kindley Field, the naval station in Bermuda, we would assemble at the officer's club after work. One Friday, Rick, a newly married ensign, insisted he had to leave at 6 p.m. We all tried to talk him into staying, but he'd promised his bride he'd be home by six. I offered to call home for Rick.
When his wife answered the phone, I said, "Rick has been kidnapped. Put ten dollars in small, unmarked bills in a plain brown paper bag and throw it in the door of the officer's club." Then I hung up. A short time later, a waiter brought a grocery bag to our table. In it were Rick's baseball glove, a tennis racket, and a teddy bear. Attached to the bear was a note: "Rick can play kidnapped until 7 p.m. Then he must come home."
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Marc Fear is the dark room in which negatives are developed. - Anon. |
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10-07-2014, 08:44 AM
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#2 |
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F*ck Cancer!
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Re: Kidnapped
__________________
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