|Forum: "Something to laugh about"
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|I want to see Natalie|| |
erstellt: 08.06.2006 18:04:04
The madam opened the brothel door to see a rather dignified, well-dressed good looking man in his late 40s or early 50s.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"I want to see Natalie," the man replied.
"Sir, Natalie is one of our most expensive ladies.
Perhaps you would prefer someone else," said the madam.
"No. I must see Natalie," was the man's reply.
Just then, Natalie appeared and announced to the man that she charged $1,000 a visit. Without hesitation, the man pulled out ten one-hundred dollar bills, gave them to Natalie, and they went upstairs. After an hour, the man calmly left.
The next night, the same man appeared again, demanding to see Natalie.
Natalie explained that none had ever come back two nights in a row--too expensive--and there were no discounts. The price was still $1,000.
Again the man pulled out the money, gave it to Natalie and they went upstairs. After an hour, he left.
The following night the man was there again. Everyone was astounded and Natalie and he went upstairs. After their session, Natalie questioned the man. "No one has ever used me three nights in a row. Where are you from?" she asked.
The man replied, "South Carolina."
"Really" she said. "I have family in South Carolina."
"I know," the man said. "Your father died and I am your sister's attorney. She asked me to give you your $3,000 inheritance."
The moral of the story is that three things in life are certain:
3. Being screwed by a lawyer
erstellt: 09.06.2006 15:56:15 geändert: 09.06.2006 15:57:03
Via Appia 145 Roma
Roma, 28 aprilia 2006
Now I am tella you story wot I was a–treated at your hotella.
I am a–comma from Roma as tourist to London and stay as a–younga Christian man at your hotella.
When I comma in my room I see there is no shit in my bed – how can I sleep with no shit in my bed? So I calla down to receptione and tella: »I wanta shit.« They tella me »Go to toilet.« I say »No, no, I wanta shit in my bed.« They say: »You'd better not shit in your bed, you sonna–wa bitch.«
What is a sonna–wa–bitch?
I go down for breakfast into ristorante. I order bacon and eggs and two pissis of toast. I getta only one piss of toast. I tella waitress, and point to toast: »I wanta piss.« She tella me: »Go to toilet.«
I say: »No, no, I wanta piss on the plate.« She then say to me: »You'd bloody wella not piss on the plate, you sonna–wa–bitch.«
That is the second person who do not even know me calla me sonna–wa–bitch, and why is your staff replying »Go to toilet«, is that a modern tella? I do not understand, please tella me!
Later I go for dinner in your ristorante. Spoon and knife is laid out, but no fock. I tella waitress: »I wanta fock.« And she tella me: »Sure, everyone wanta fock.« I tella her: »No, no, you do not under-stand me. I wanta fock on the table.« She tella me: »So you sonna–wa–bitch wanta fock on the table? Get your ass out of here!«
How comma this Christian hotella treat the guest in such bad manner?
So I go to receptione and ask for bill. I no wanta stay in this hotella no more. When I have paid the a–billa the portier say to me: »Thank you, and piss on you.« I say: »Piss on you too, you sonna–wa–bitch, I now go back to Italy.«
Direttore, I never gonna stay in your hotella no more, you sonna–wa–bitch.
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