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the end


 

Monday, April 05, 2004

 
From one of my bicycling buddies:

The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I told my husband that I would be home by midnight. "I promise!"
Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy. Around 3 a.m., a bit blitzed, I headed for home. Just as I got
in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times. Quickly realizing my husband would probably wake up, I
cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally
smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him midnight. He didn't seem disturbed at all. (Whew! Got
away with that one!). Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock." When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock
cuckooed 3 times, then said, "oh, crap," cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed
twice more, and then tripped over the cat and farted."



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