The Poles Have A Saying About How Communist Governments Rewrite History

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The Poles have a saying about how communist governments rewrite history:
"Only the future is certain; the past is always changing"

A would-be bandit failed because he had written a holdup up note on another
bank's withdrawal slip.
When Leonard Goodin decided to rob a Toronto-Dominion bank branch last
Sept. 4, he wrote his holdup note demanding money on a withdrawal slip from
the Royal Bank of Canada, court heard yesterday.
The teller looked at the note and told Goodin, "You have the wrong bank.
This is a Toronto-Dominion, not a Royal."
She returned his note but Goodin pushed it back at her along with a
brown paper bag in which the money was to be placed.
The woman again reminded him he was in the wrong bank and returned the note.
"The accused stared at the victim, shook his head and left the bank," court was told.
An hour later Goodin successfully robbed another bank - even though it wasn't
a Royal branch.

A few months ago in upstate New York, a man decided to rob a local bank.
He walked into the bank holding a brown paper bag. He looked around for
a moment, and must have decided he was in the wrong bank, because he then
left, walked across the street, and robbed a DIFFERENT one!
He took a bystander hostage, where she was forced to drove the thief to his
house, and drop him off! He then let her go. She promptly called the police,
and they went and arrested the man at his house.

One awfully good one (William Buckley's favorite, as it happens) is that
60% of the college seniors in Texas cannot name the country to the south.

o a man decided to throw rocks at a buffalo, just to see what it would do.
It charged him.

o a man wanted to have his picture taken with a buffalo, except the buffalo
was laying down. Thinking that this wouldn't make a very interesting photo,
he started kicking the buffalo to make it stand up. The buffalo did stand
up, and then it hooked him. He was evacuated to a hospital. After two months
he finally died.

o a man wanted to take a picture of his two year old daughter with a buffalo,
so he set her on top of the animal. You can imagine what happened next.

A certain old cat had made his home in the alley behind Gabe's bar for
some time, subsisting on scraps and occasional handouts from the bartender.
One evening, emboldened by hunger, the feline attempted to follow Gabe through
the back door. Regrettably, only the his body had made it through when
Gabe slammed the door, severing the cat's tail at its base. This proved too
much for the old creature, who looked sadly at Gabe and expired on the spot.
Gabe put the carcass back out in the alley and went back to business.
The mandatory closing time arrived and Gabe was in the process of locking up
after the last customers had gone. Approaching the back door he was startled
to see an apparition of the old cat mournfully holding its severed tail out,
silently pleading for Gabe to put the tail back on its corpse so that it could
go on to the kitty afterworld complete. Gabe shook his head sadly and said
to the ghost: "I can't. You know the law:
I can't retail spirits after 2:00 AM."

Pat and mike were walking down the street when their old friendly-sort-
of-nemesis approached them. He thought he'd have a good laugh at their
expense because they, reputedly, weren't too bright. He said: "Hey Pat!
Hey Mike! Did you
hear the news?" "The news?" asked Mike. "What is it?" asked Pat. "It's
incredible, I read in the papers this morning that the devil died!!!" Said
the old nemesis. "Is that so?" asked Mike. "The truth is it?" asked Pat,
and they bogh dug into their pockets and each gave the man a coin. Thinking
this teribly strange, "What on earth is this for?" asked the man. Pat began
to explain: "In the old country, when someone dies," and Mike finished:
"We all contribute a little something to help the surviving children."

About five years ago the battery in my beat-up VW beetle had died because
I left the lights on overnight . I was in a hurry to get to work on time
so I ran into the house to get my wife to give me a hand to start the car.
I told her to get into our second car, a prehistoric oversized gas guzzler,
and use it to push my car fast enough to start it. I pointed out to her that
because the VW had an automatic transmission, it needed to be pushed at least
30 MPH for it to start. She said fine, hoped into her car and drove off.
I sat there fuming wondering what can she be doing. A minute passed by and
when I saw her in the rearview mirror coming at me at about 40 MPH, I realized
that I should have been a bit clearer with my directions.

Art needed to do some repair work on his roof which had a fairly steep pitch.
He was having a tough time bracing himself until he got a great idea: if
he could secure a rope to something in front of the house, throw the rope
over the roof to the other side and secure himself to it -- why yes, that
would work well. And so it did. But, in such situations, details are all
important and Art missed a big one. Had he not secured the rope to the car,
or if he had bothered to tell his wife, the story would have had a different
ending. But, Lil did get into the car, not noticing the rope stretched over
the house, and proceeded to run her errand. Art was dragged up one side
of the roof, down the other, fell the ten feet to the driveway and was pulled
about a hundred feet down the street until his wife happened to notice.
Although he didnt die (which was probably preferable to explaining this story
for the rest of his life), Art did spent several weeks in intensive care.

A man was driving around the countryside in his new sports car, moving at
speeds that bordered on unsafe. When checking his rear-view mirror, he
noticed that a small object, followed by a trail of dust, was closing
fast. His curiousity piqued, he slowed a bit to get a better look. As the
object came into view, it was clearly a chicken. While the man watched in
amazement, the bird whizzed by him. He checked his speed as this happened:
could it really pass him when he was doing 35?
There was no way a chicken was going to make a joke of his $18,000 machine.
He slammed down the gas pedal and went screaming toward the offending fowl.
He grinned with satisfaction as he passed it, but a few seconds later, he
spotted it running even with him, staying in view. He studied the bird and
noticed that it had three legs! This was really strange. Suddenly, the
chicken zipped ahead of his car, took a sharp left turn and disappeared
behind a haystack.
The man had to check this out. He spun his wheel and barely made the turn.
As he came around the other side of the haystack, he had to stand on his
brakes to avoid the farmer, who stood complacently chewing a toothpick
and looking blankly at the car that nearly flattened him. The chicken
stood nearby, not even breathing heavily.
The man got out of his car. "This your chicken?", he asked.
"How is it possible that it has three legs?"
"Me and my wife, we raise 'em that way," the farmer droned.
The man looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Well," came the reply, "you sit down to dinner with your wife and a guest.
You like a drumstick?"
"Sure, but..."
"And your wife, she likes a drumstick?"
"Yeah, so?"
"Your guest might like one too, you reckon?"
Now it was clear. "Oh, I see!" He smiled. He couldn't wait to spring this
on his friends. "What does it taste like?"
"Dunno," said the farmer, "never caught one."