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Posted by Joan E. on October 23, 2009, 11:26 am
On Oct 22, 5:17=A0am, "Bruce Fletcher (remove dentures to reply)"
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> A man is stranded in the desert and has not eaten or drunk anything for
> nearly 36 hours. He is about to die. Amazingly, as he stumbles through
> the sand, he comes to three market stalls. The man (half-thinking he
> must be hallucinating) approaches the first stall and demands, "I need
> water, sell me some water."
> "Sorry, Sir," replies the stall owner, "I only sell custard."
> The man, visibly taken aback, goes up to the second stall and again asks
> for water.
> "I'm afraid I only sell sponge cake and cream," replies the second stall
> owner.
> The man turns in disbelief to the final stall and begs, "please, I need
> water now or I'll die."
> "Sorry Sir, I only sell hundreds and thousands," replies the final stall
> owner.
> His fatigue momentarily forgotten the man demands, "You mean to tell me
> that the three of you all own market stalls in the middle of the desert
> and none of you sell water?"
> "I know, Sir," says the first stall owner, "it's a trifle bazaar."
Okay, I had to look to see if there was a different definition for
"hundreds and thousands" (I was thinking, hundreds and thousands of
what?), which, to this American, didn't make sense. AHA! They're
cupcake sprinkles!
Still a good groaner, Bruce!
Joan
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> nearly 36 hours. He is about to die. Amazingly, as he stumbles through
> the sand, he comes to three market stalls. The man (half-thinking he
> must be hallucinating) approaches the first stall and demands, "I need
> water, sell me some water."
> "Sorry, Sir," replies the stall owner, "I only sell custard."
> The man, visibly taken aback, goes up to the second stall and again asks
> for water.
> "I'm afraid I only sell sponge cake and cream," replies the second stall
> owner.
> The man turns in disbelief to the final stall and begs, "please, I need
> water now or I'll die."
> "Sorry Sir, I only sell hundreds and thousands," replies the final stall
> owner.
> His fatigue momentarily forgotten the man demands, "You mean to tell me
> that the three of you all own market stalls in the middle of the desert
> and none of you sell water?"
> "I know, Sir," says the first stall owner, "it's a trifle bazaar."