Seems like only yesterday my son Whit was making up jokes like:
when the tree fell over the bushes were silly.
This weekend, he made this up:
Q: What do you call a highway with no toll booths?
A: A freeway.
Lear: And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life? Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, never, never, never. Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O.
No comments:
Post a Comment