A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and
asks, in the sweetest little lisp, between two
missing teeth, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep
widdle wabbits?"

As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his
knees so that he's on her level and asks, "Do you
want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy
bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle
bwown wabbit over there?"

She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her
hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a
tiny quiet voice, "I don't think my python weally
gives a thit."

Posted by: Delftsman3 at 07:36 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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