Today's stories [7.21.10]

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Hitting on the novel idea that he could end his wife's incessant nagging 
by giving her a good scare, Hungarian Jake Fen built an elaborate harness 
to make it look as if he had hanged himself.
When his wife came home and saw him she fainted. Hearing a disturbance a 
neighbor came over and, finding what she thought were two corpses, seized 
the opportunity to loot the place. As she was leaving the room, her arms 
laden, the outraged and suspended Mr. Fen kicked her stoutly in the 
backside. This so surprised the lady that she dropped dead of a heart 
attack. Happily, Mr. Fen was acquitted of manslaughter and he and his wife 
were reconciled.

A prospective juror in a Dallas District Court was surprised by the
definition of voluntary manslaughter given the panel:

     "an intentional killing that occurs while the defendant is under
     the immediate influence of sudden passion arising from an
     adequate cause, such as when a spouse's mate is found in a
     'compromising position.'"

"See, I have a problem with that passion business," responded the jury
candidate. "During my first marriage, I came in and found my husband in 
bed with my neighbor. All I did was divorce him. I had no idea that I 
could have shot him."

She wasn't selected for the jury.

In Melbourne (Australia) one of the radio stations paid money, $100 to
$500, for people to tell their most embarrassing stories. This morning's
one netted the proud owner $300.

As the lady said...I was due later that week for an appointment with the
gynecologist, when early one morning I received a call from his office 
that I had been rescheduled for early that morning at 9:30 a.m. I had only 
just packed everyone off to work and school and it was around 8:45 
already. The trip to his office usually took about thirty five minutes, so 
I didn't have any time to spare. As most women do I'm sure, I like to take 
a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time 
I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. So I rushed upstairs, 
threw off my dressing gown, wet the washcloth and gave myself a wash in 
"that area" in front of the sink, taking extra care to make sure that I 
was presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some 
clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment. I was in the 
waiting room only a few minutes when he called me in. Knowing the 
procedure, as I'm sure you all do, I hopped up on the table, looked over 
at the other side of the room and pretended I was in Hawaii or some other 
place a million miles away from here. I was a little surprised when he 
said, "My... we have taken a little extra effort this morning, haven't 
we?", but I didn't respond. The appointment over, I heaved a sigh of 
relief and went home. The rest of the day went as normal, some shopping, 
cleaning, the evening meal, etc. At 8:30 that evening my 18 year old 
daughter was fixing to go to a school dance, when she called down from the 
bathroom, "Mom - where's my washcloth?" I called back for her to get 
another from the cabinet. She called back, "No - I need the one that was 
here by the sink - It had all my glitter and sparkles in it".

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