A man has spent many days crossing the Sahara without water. His trusty horse and camel have both long since died of thirst. Drier than a Californian raisin, he is on all fours crawling through the sands certain that he has breathed his last.
All of a sudden he sees an object sticking out of the sand 6 feet ahead of him. He crawls to the object, pulls it out of the sand and discovers what looks to be an old brief case. He opens it and out pops a genie, but this is no ordinary genie. He is a dull looking character, wearing an Inland Revenue ID badge and a naff grey suit. There's a calculator in his pocket, and a pencil tucked behind one ear.
"Well, kid," drones the monotone genie. "You know how it works. You have three wishes."
"I'm not falling for that old chestnut," replies the weary man. "I'm not going to trust a tax inspector!"
"What do you have to lose? You've got no transportation, and it looks like you're a gonna die anyway!"
Sighing, the man thinks about this for a minute, and decides that the dull genie is right.
"OK, I wish I were in a lush oasis with plentiful food and drink".
The man finds himself in the most beautiful oasis he has ever seen, and he is surrounded with carafes of vino superior and platters of delicacies.
"OK sir, what's your second wish?"
"My second wish is that I were rich beyond my wildest dreams."
The man finds himself surrounded by treasure chests, filled with rare gold coins, precious gems and a cheque which would keep the Beckhams for life (assuming only one attempted kidnapping per decade).
"Very well sir, you have just one more wish. Better make it a good one!"
After thinking for a few minutes, the man says, "I wish that no matter where I go beautiful women will want, and need me."
He is turned into a tampon.
And the moral of the story? If the Inland Revenue offers you ANYTHING, there must be a string attached.
All of a sudden he sees an object sticking out of the sand 6 feet ahead of him. He crawls to the object, pulls it out of the sand and discovers what looks to be an old brief case. He opens it and out pops a genie, but this is no ordinary genie. He is a dull looking character, wearing an Inland Revenue ID badge and a naff grey suit. There's a calculator in his pocket, and a pencil tucked behind one ear.
"Well, kid," drones the monotone genie. "You know how it works. You have three wishes."
"I'm not falling for that old chestnut," replies the weary man. "I'm not going to trust a tax inspector!"
"What do you have to lose? You've got no transportation, and it looks like you're a gonna die anyway!"
Sighing, the man thinks about this for a minute, and decides that the dull genie is right.
"OK, I wish I were in a lush oasis with plentiful food and drink".
The man finds himself in the most beautiful oasis he has ever seen, and he is surrounded with carafes of vino superior and platters of delicacies.
"OK sir, what's your second wish?"
"My second wish is that I were rich beyond my wildest dreams."
The man finds himself surrounded by treasure chests, filled with rare gold coins, precious gems and a cheque which would keep the Beckhams for life (assuming only one attempted kidnapping per decade).
"Very well sir, you have just one more wish. Better make it a good one!"
After thinking for a few minutes, the man says, "I wish that no matter where I go beautiful women will want, and need me."
He is turned into a tampon.
And the moral of the story? If the Inland Revenue offers you ANYTHING, there must be a string attached.
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I saw you through a link on Larina's journal - Kia ora fellow kiwi!