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3 Fisherman and an Angel

SERPENTS DEN

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Three guys were fishing in a lake one day, when an angel appeared in the boat. When the three astonished men had settled down enough to speak, the first guy asked the angel humbly, "Ive suffered from back pain ever since I took shrapnel in the Vietnam War ... Could you help me?" "Of course," the angel said, and when he touched the mans back, the man felt relief for the first time in years. The second guy who wore very thick glasses and had a hard time reading and driving. He asked if the angel could do anything about his poor eyesight. The angel smiled, removed the mans glasses and tossed them into the lake. When they hit the water, the mans eyes cleared and he could see everything distinctly. When the angel turned to the third guy, the guy put his hands out defensively -- "Don't touch me!" he cried, "I'm on a disability pension."
 
That's messed up steve lol!

Ok then lets get on to a letter to God...lol

There was a man who worked for the Post Office whose job it was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses.One day, a letter came addressed in a shaky handwriting to God with no actual address. He thought he should open it to see what it was about. The letter read:


Dear God,

I am an 83 year old widow, living on a very small pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100 in it, which was all the money i had until my next pension check. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. Can you please help me?

Sincerely, Edna



The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all the other workers. Each one dug into his or her wallet and came up with a few dollars. By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96, which they put into an envelope and sent to the woman.

The rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of Edna and the dinner she would be able to share with her friends.

Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from the same old lady to God. All the workers gathered around while the letter was opened. It read:


Dear God,

How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your gift of love, I was able to fix a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day and I told my friends of your wonderful gift. By the way, there was $4 missing. I think it must have been those bastards at the Post Office.

Sincerely, Edna
 
Lmao .... Bad? Maybe... Hilarious, definatly!!!
Good one Steve!

Hey, I got one:

Letter Home from a New Army Recruit

Dear Ma and Pa,

I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell my big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin' on the farm - tell em to get signed up quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all yagotta do before brekfest is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No stinky cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but it's not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!

At brekfest ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no gator steaks or possum stew like wot Ma makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are whiney because we've been on a 'route march' - geez it's only just like walking to the windmill in the backyard!!

This one will kill my brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a dang ol possum's hind quarters and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big ol bull got into their prize cows last year! All ya gotta do is make yoself comferble and hit the target - it's a piece of cake!! You don't even load your own cartridges they comes in little boxes and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the shooting truck when you reload!

Sometimes yagotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Bob and Steve and Marty all at once like we do at home after supper!

Turns out I'm not a bad fighter either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one fella from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 18 stone and like three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but I fought him till the other fellas carried me off to the boozer.

I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how easy it is.

Your Loving Daughter,
Sarah
 
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