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Finally, when he was put before the firing squad, the guard asked if he wanted a cigarette and a blindfold.
"No," the inmate said, "just get it over with."
"Well, is there anything that I can do for you before you go?" said the guard. "You didn't even want a special last meal!"
The inmate thought. "Actually," he said, "Music is my life. One thing I would really like would be to sing my favorite song, one whole time through, with no interruptions."
The guard nodded and told him to go ahead.
The inmate started, "One billion bottles of beer on the wall..."
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"What are you doing?" asked the farmer, horrified.
"Well, I wasn't gonna use the side that YOU had put your lips on."
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"What the F was that?" -- Mayor of Hiroshima
"Where did all these F'ing Indians come from?" -- General Custer"
Any F'ing idiot could understand that." -- Albert Einstein
"It does so F'ing look like her!" -- Pablo Picasso
"How the F did you work that out?" -- Pythagoras
"You want WHAT on the F'ing ceiling?" -- Michaelangelo
"I don't suppose its gonna F'ing rain?" -- Joan of Arc
"Scattered F'ing showers my ass." -- Noah
"I need this parade like I need a F'ing hole in my head." -- John F. Kennedy
"Who the F is going to know? " -- Bill Clinton
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