WORLD'S FIRST BUREAUCRAT

In an idle moment at the dawn of the Stone Age, the Chief Ecologist decided to do something about all the holes in the ground. Taxpayers kept falling into them, you see, and disappearing.

Predictably, the Chief Ecologist got hold of a local entrepreneur called Willie Glog and put Willie in charge of the Hole-In-The-Ground-Agency (HGA). A born bureaucrat, Willie immediately hired six assistants and they chiseled the regulations in stone:

1. All holes shall be filled up.
2. Dirt to fill old holes shall be obtained by digging new holes adjacent to old holes.
3. Resultant new holes shall be filled in similar fashion, and so on.

This elegant solution created a vast bureaucratic empire destined to keep Willie Glog and his army of workers busy for centuries. I tell you, it was beautiful!

"Excuse me, sir," said a local troublemaker, wrinkling his brow and tugging on Willie Glog's sleeve. "Duh, if we keep digging new holes to fill old holes, won't we always be one hole behind, duh?"

Willie barely hesitated before replying. "Not if you work fast!" He turned to an assistant and said, "Get that man's name!" ##
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WHAT'S WRONG WITH BRITISH MOVIES?

I can't watch British movies. I never know what's going on. They don't pronounce their words. Every line is tossed off. Then, there are those confounded wailing sirens: WAH wah, WAH, wah. Why can't the British use proper sirens?

And who the hell writes that awful dialog? Example: World coming to an end, asteroids smashing London, mutant monsters swarming all over the place. Then the Brits always have some effete gin-soaked swine slouch against the fireplace and toss off something like, "I say, this simply will never do." An American character would at least say, "Holy Cow, our asses have had it!"

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TOO MANY IRONS IN THE RIVER
By Bruno (No Neck) Jones

Every time I pull a job I have to throw another rod in the river. I got so many rods in the river now the cops play holy hell trying to figure out which one I used on my last job.

Come on, Bruno, you don't live near a river.

Well no, but whenever they tell me to whack some poor sap, I always lure the guy out of town, see, where there's a river, way out in the boonies. Then the dumb bastard always says to me, "Well, Bruno, here we are way out of town in the boonies near a river. What did you want to talk to me about?"

What simple bastards these victims are. I love my job.
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HANDLIN’ YO MAIN SLAPPIN BITCH

Some chumps think that when yo main bitch give you some static, you got to duck yo head and start shuckin and jivin. But that ain't me. I treat her nice only when I damn well feel like it and when she have damn well earned it. Then maybe I show her a little mercy by draggin’ my handsome old self over to her place a couple nites a month and give her what fo.

Mo' on how to handle your MSB next time, dude.
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