The letters of our thoughts are the ideas present in our mind before they come to realization . . . Thoughts that are, yet not felt . . . The words of the subconscious . . . of the soul . . .

These are the LETTERS OF MY THOUGHTS.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

It's a Small World After All

A little humor first (for Adar):
A Polish man moved to the USA and married an American girl.
Although his English was far from perfect, they got along very
well until one day he rushed into a lawyer's office and asked him
if he could arrange a divorce for him.
The lawyer said that getting a divorce would depend on the
circumstances, and asked him the following questions:
"Have you any grounds?"
"Yes, an acre and half and nice little home."
"No, I mean what is the foundation of this case?"
"It made of concrete."
"I don't think you understand. Does either of you have a real grudge?"
"No, we have carport, and not need one."
"I mean. What are your relations like?"
"All my relations still in Poland."
"Is there any infidelity in your marriage?"
"We have hi-fidelity stereo and good DVD player."
"Does your wife beat you up?"
"No, I always up before her."
"Is your wife a nagger?"
"No, she white."
"Why do you want this divorce?"
"She going to kill me."
"What makes you think that?"
"I got proof! She going to poison me. She buy a bottle at drugstore
and put on shelf in bathroom.
I can read, and it say: 'Polish Remover'"

>[-]<

As to the name of this post - here's an e-mail from my Grandmother (Bubby S.)
I went to visit auntie Bea today [my Grandmother's aunt -tchy'], and as I was waiting for the elevator there were three young girls there, possibly volunteers. There was also one of the residents who I know, but for some reason she started talking to me in what I thought was russian, so I said in russian, 'I do not speak russian', and the girl said that she is speaking Polish', and she spoke to the resident, in polish. So I asked her where she was from, and she said warshaw!
-I told her my grandson is at the yeshiva in warshaw. She told me her mother goes to the chabad there, her name sounds like cash but is spelled czs. Have you met her and do you know anyone with a name that sounds like that????? The elevator arrived at the floor where I got off and that was the end of our conversation and meeting for that day, maybe I'lll see her again another time.

To make a long story short -last week her brother came to us for the first time, this week her mother came and sent regards (from my grandmother . . .).
Hasgacha Protis!

4 comments:

Mottel said...

thanks

Anonymous said...

thats histerical, that was me, and my lastname is kasz :)
send regards to bubby, she seemed very sweet, i dont know how you made my bro to come, but is sounds like a purim nes to me!

Mottel said...

HHow did you find this Blog?

Anonymous said...

through shluchim blog, you left a link for pics from warsaw, not a long time ago.