Aunt Karen

Angel sent this to me, quite approprite during our current wartime effort:

The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.

"Johnny, do you have a story to share?"
"Yes, ma''am, my daddy told a story about my Aunt Karen.

Aunt Karen was a pilot in Desert Storm and her plane was hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a small flask of
whiskey, a pistol and a survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it would not break and then her parachute landed right in the
middle of twenty enemy troops. She shot fifteen of them with the gun until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, ''till the blade
broke and then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands."

"Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from that horrible story?"

"Stay the hell away from Aunt Karen when she''s been drinking."


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