Once again, one of my friends sent me this “politically incorrect” gem which I just had to pass

this on as it is so truthful.

                  
Five surgeons from big cities are discussing who makes the best patients
to operate on.

The first surgeon, from New York, says, “I like to see  accountants on my
operating table because when you open them up, everything inside is
numbered.”
 
The second, from Chicago, responds,”Yeah, but you should
try  electricians!   Everything inside them is color coded.”

The third surgeon, from Dallas, says, “No, I really think
librarians are the best, everything inside them is in alphabetical order”

The fourth surgeon, from Los Angeles, chimes
in: “You know, I like  construction workers…Those guys always understand
when you have a few  parts left over.”
 
But the fifth surgeon, from  Washington, DC shut them
all up when he observed: “You’re all wrong.   Politicians are the easiest to
operate on.  There’s no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains
and no spine, and the head  and the ass are interchangeable.”

The Dog’s Diary

  8:00 am – Dog food! My favorite thing!
  9:30 am – A car ride! My favorite thing!
  9:40 am – A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm – Milk bones! My favorite thing!
  1:00 pm – Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
  3:00 pm – Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
  5:00 pm – Dinner! My favorite thing!
  7:00 pm – Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
  8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm – Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

The Cat’s Diary

Day 983 of My Captivity

    My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

    The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

 Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.

    I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now …