Dear Signore Direttore,
Now I am a-tella you a story wot I was a-treated at your hotella.
I am a-comma from Roma as tourist to London an stay as a-younga cristan man at your hotella.
When I comma in my room I see there is no shit in my bed - how can I sleep whit no shit i my bed? So I calla down to the receptione and tella: 'I wanta shit'. They tella me: 'Go to toilet'. I say: 'No,no I wanta shit in my bed'. They say: 'You better not shit in your bed, you sonna-wa-bitch'. What is sonna-wa-bitch?
I go down for breakfast into restorante. I order bacon and egga and two pissis of toast. I getta only one piss of toast. I tella waitress, and point at toast: 'I wanta piss'. She tella me: 'Go to toilet'. I say: 'I wata piss on my plate'. She then say to me: 'You'd bloody not piss on the plate, you sonna-wa-bitch'.
That is the second person who do not even know me calla me 'sonna-wa-bitch', an why is your staff replying 'Go to toilet', is that a modern tella? I do no understand, Please tella me!
Later I go for dinner in your restorante. Spoon and knife is laid out, but no fock. I tella waitress: 'I wanta fock'. And she tella me: 'Sure, everyone wanta fock'. I say: 'No,no you dont understanda me, I wanta fock on the table'. She tella me: So you sonna-wa-bitch wanta fock on the table? Get your ass out of here!
How comma this cristian hotel tella the guest in such bad manner?
So I go to receptioneand ask for bill, I no wanta stay in this hotel no more. When I have paid the a-billa the portier say to me: 'Thank you and piss on you'. I say: 'Piss on you too, you sonna-wa-bitch, I go back to Italy'.
Direttore, I never gonna stay in your hotella no more, you sonna-wa-bitch.
Sincerely
Dicci Elgre
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Here's a toast to your new bride who has everything a girl could want in her life, except for good taste in men!
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I went to a restaurant that serves 'breakfast at any time'. So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.
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I belong to Bridegrooms Anonymous. Whenever I feel like getting married, they send over a lady in a housecoat and hair curlers to burn my toast for me.
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When a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet. When toast is dropped, it always lands butter-side-down. I propose to strap buttered toast to the back of a cat, butter facing up. The two will hover, spinning, inches above the ground. With a giant buttered-toast/cat array, a high-speed monorail could easily link New York with Chicago.
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There is no pain greater than this; no the cut of a jagged-edged dagger nor the fire of a dragon's breath. Nothing burns in your heart like the emptiness of losing something, someone, before you truly have learned of its value. Often now I lift my cup in a futile toast, an apology to ears that cannot hear.
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I did toy with the idea of doing a cook-book. The recipes were to be the routine ones: how to make dry toast, instant coffee, hearts of lettuce and brownies. But as an added attraction, at no extra charge, my idea was to put a fried egg on the cover. I think a lot of people who hate literature but love fried eggs would buy it if the price was right.
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You make a toast for tomorrow and smash the cup, letting your false women lap the dish I had to fatten up.
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I'm known from coast to coast like butter and toast
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Here's to you, Here's to me, the best of friends we'll always be, but if by chance we disagree, fuck you and here's to me.
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The Abbey always reminds me of that old toast, 'Above lofty timbers, the walls around are bare, echoing to our laughter, as though the dead we...
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Why is it that the toast never pops up when you are standing beside the toaster?
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Laughter is the jam on the toast of life; it adds flavor, keeps it from becoming too dry, and makes it easier to swallow.
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Here's a toast -- To those who challenge us to mind games, but forget to bring their equipment!
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Here's to you, as good as you are, And here's to me, as bad as I am; But as good as you are, and as bad as I am, I am as good as you are, as bad as I am.
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I went to a restaurant that serves 'breakfast at any time.' So I ordered French toast during the Renaissance.
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If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happen if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?
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Heres to us fools, that have no meaning. I tip my glass to you. Lets toast the night away to friends, and forget about tomorow.
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This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. You don't want to mix emotions up with a wine like that. You lose the taste.
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If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it
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