submitted by Sang on 02.6.2006
A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp:
“Excuthe me, mithter, where do keep the wittle wabbits?”
And the shop keeper gets down on his knees, so that he’s on her level, and asks, “Do you want a wittle white wabby or a soft and fuwwy black wabby or maybe one like that cute wittle brown wabby over there?”
She in turn puts her hand on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice: “I don’t fink my pyfon really gives a thit!”
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