The Parrot. . . . .

Hillary wanted to add some color to the White House.

She decided to look at tropical birds for reasons known only to her.

While shopping for the bird, she visited a local pet store which was known

for its collection of tropical birds. As she was viewing the collection, she

noted a vast difference in prices.

"Why is this one only $50 and all the others are $500?" she asked.

"Well, ma'am," the manager told her, "not everyone would want to own this

parrot.

He spent many years in a whore house and his language is terrible "Well, I

want him," she said.

"Suit yourself," the manager shrugged. When she got the parrot back to

the White House, she uncovered his cage and admired the colorful bird.

The parrot tilted his head to one side, looked her straight in the eye

and said, "New house, new madam." Hillary laughed. Soon Chelsea and a friend

came in and began admiring the bird. "New house, new whores," the parrot

observed.

At first they were offended, but when Hillary explained about the

bird's history, they too, laughed at him. A few minutes later the President

entered the living quarters. The parrot looked up from his feeder and said

"Hi, Bill."

> An elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly

> smelled

> the aroma of his favourite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs.

> He

> gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning

> against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even

> greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with

> both hands, he crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against

> the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he

> would have thought himself already in heaven: there, spread out upon waxed

> paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite

> chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic

> love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy

> man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table,

> landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted: the

> wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing

> him back to life. The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a

> cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a

> spatula

> by his wife......

>

>

> "F*ck off" she said, "they're for the funeral."

>

> Two cowboys are out on the range talking about their

> favorite sex positions:

>

> One says "I think I enjoy the rodeo position the

> best."

>

> "I don't think I have ever heard of that one", says

> the other cowboy,

>

> "what is it?"

>

> "Well, its where you get your girlfriend down on all

> fours, and you mount

> her from behind, and you reach around and cup each

> one of her breasts in

> your hands, and then you whisper in her ear, "Boy,

> these feel just like your

> sister's" and then you try to hold on for 8

> seconds."

Why is Bill Clinton so reluctant to decide the fate of Elian Gonzalez?

Because last time he made a decision about where to put a Cuban he

was almost impeached.