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 loaded, 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, in order to escape a possible conflict with him. (Even when totally smashed...3 cuckoos plus 9
cuckoos totals 12 cuckoos = MIDNIGHT!)
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him "Midnight". He didn't seem upset 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 three times, then said, "Oh. shit.", cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Last "Girls Night Out".
I normally don't like 'funny' emails. Usually, they aren't 'funny' and they just fill up your inbox. This one was clearly an exception.
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