After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.
Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job. The bishop was incredulous. 'You have no arms!'
'No matter,' said the man. 'Observe!' And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon.
The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo. But suddenly, as he rushed forward to strike the bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.
The stunned bishop rushed down two hundred and ninety five church steps, when he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moment before.
As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked,
'Bishop, who was this man?'
'I don't know his name,' the bishop sadly replied, BUT HIS FACE RINGS A BELL!'
WAIT ! WAIT ! There's more...
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.
The first man to approach him said, 'Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.'
The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.
Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.
'What has happened? Who is this man?' the first monk asked breathlessly.
'I don't know his name,' sighed the distraught bishop, 'but... HE'S A DEAD RINGER FOR HIS BROTHER!'
It was a doctor's regular habit to stop off at a bar for a hazelnut daiquiri on his way home and, aware of his habit, the bartender would always have the drink waiting for him at precisely 5:18 PM. One afternoon as the end of the work-day neared the bartender was dismayed to find he was out of hazelnut extract but, thinking quickly, he threw together a daiquiri made with hickory nuts and set it on the bar. The doctor came in at his regular time, took one sip of the drink, then exclaimed: "This isn't a hazelnut daiquiri", to which the bartender replied, "No, I'm sorry, it's a hickory daiquiri, doc."
A hungry lion was roaming through the jungle looking for something to eat when he came across two men; one was sitting under a tree reading a book while the other was typing away on his typewriter. The lion quickly pounced on the man reading the book and devoured him proving even the king of the jungle knows that readers digest and writers cramp.
Received: March 13, 2011
A Banker parks his brand new Porsche in front of the office to show it off to his colleagues. As he's getting out of the car, a lorry comes speeding along too close to the kerb and takes off the door before zooming off.
More than a little distraught, the Banker grabs his mobile and calls the police. Five minutes later, the police arrive. Before the policeman has a chance to ask any questions, the man starts screaming hysterically: 'My Porsche, my beautiful silver Porsche is ruined. No matter how long it's at the panel beaters it'll simply never be the same again!' After the man finally finishes his rant, the policeman shakes his head in disgust.
'I can't believe how materialistic you bloody Bankers are,' he says. 'You lot are so focused on your possessions that you don't notice anything else in your life.'
'How can you say such a thing at a time like this?' sobs the Porsche owner.
The policeman replies, 'Didn't you realise that your arm was torn off when the truck hit you.' The Banker looks down in horror.
'F***ING HELL!' he screams........'Where's my Rolex?'
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