The following was the answering machine message for an elementary school:
"Hello! You have reached your child's elementary school. In order to assist you in connecting the right staff member, please listen to all your options before making a selection:
To lie about why your child is absent - Press 1.
To make excuses for why your child did not do his work - Press 2.
To complain about what we do - Press 3.
To cuss out staff members - Press 4.
To ask why you didn't get information that was already enclosed in your newsletter and several flyers mailed to you - Press 5.
If you want us to raise your child - Press 6.
If you want to reach out and touch, slap or hit someone - Press 7.
To request another teacher for the third time this year - Press 8.
To complain about bus transportation - Press 9.
To complain about school lunches - Press 0.
If you realize this is the real world and your child must be accountable/responsible for his/her own behavior, class work, homework, and that it's not the teachers fault for your child(ren)'s lack of effort, hang up, and have a nice day!"
My wife never quite got the hang of the 24-hour military clock. One day she called the base orderly room to speak with me. The person who answered told her to call me at the extension in the band rehearsal hall.
"He can be reached at 4700, Ma'am," the soldier advised.
With a sigh of exasperation, my wife responded, "And just what time is that?"
TO MY WIFE: My overdraft at the bank. Maybe she can explain it.
TO MY BANKER: My soul. He has the mortgage on it anyway.
TO MY NEIGHBOR: My clown suit. He'll need it if he continues to farm as he has in the past.
TO THE ASCS: My grain bin. I was planning to let them take it next year anyway.
TO THE FARM ADVISER: 50 bushels of corn to see if he can hit the market. I never did.
TO THE JUNK MAN: All my machinery. He's had his eye on it for years.
TO MY UNDERTAKER: A special request. I want six implement and fertilizer dealers for my pallbearers. They're used to carrying me.
TO THE WEATHERMAN: Rain, sleet and snow for the funeral please. No sense having good weather now.
TO THE GRAVEDIGGER: Don't bother. The hole I'm in should be big enough.
TO THE MONUMENT MAKER: For the epitaph: "Here lies a farmer who has now properly assumed all of his obligations."
Eating too much pi, can give you a large circumference.