From: utzoo!decvax!ucbvax!CAD:tektronix!zehntel!sytek!menlo70!hao!seismo!rlgvax!oz Newsgroups: net.jokes Title: "A good(?) shaggy dog story" Article-I.D.: rlgvax.134 Posted: Tue Mar 22 00:24:46 1983 Received: Thu Mar 24 08:12:41 1983 Remember, you were warned: This is the tale of Larry Lobster, and Sam Clam. They were the best of friends. Where ever one went, the other was sure to follow. The went to the same beaches, annoyed the same people, they were real pals. Being real pals, it was sad that they died together, the same day at a Kennedy Clam bake at Hyannis Port. When Larry gained his new conciousness, he was in heaven, there was St. Peter himself giving him his new wings, harp and white rode. How neat. But then Larry noticed, no Sam Clam. He looked all over heaven, but could not find Sam Clam. He was very upset about this. He went to St. Peter, and said "Pete, I would like to have a 24 hour pass to go down to hell, and visit my old friend Sam Clam, he ment alot to me." St. Peter was in a very good mood and agreed to the request, stating the Larry HAD to be back before 12:00 midnite, or he could never get back in. So Larry, got onto the express elevator, pressed the down button and arrived in hell. He stop the first person that he could find, a former Nixon cabnet member, and asked "Do you know where I can find Sam Clam?" The aide replied "Why yes, after he saw all the fire and brimstone, he opened up Hell's first Disco, I drew up the incorporation papers myself" (The quota for lawyers in hell is quite high). So Larry followed the man to Sam's new business. Larry was so happy to see Sam. They talked, they drank, Larry boggied and generally had the time of his life (death?). Suddenly he looked down at his digital watch (all digital watcs that "beep" on the hour are sent to hell) at saw it was ten minutes to midnite. Larry ran out of the disco, stood tapping his claw waiting for the elevator, and finally got on it. He pushed the up button, and arrived outside the pearly gates at 11:58. He ran inside for the bed check that St. Peter was conducting. "Larry," said St. Peter, "look at you, you're a mess. Your robe is dirty, your wings have hot sauce on them, and ... WHERE IS YOUR HARP?!!!" "OY," said Larry, (close your eyes folks) "I left my harp at Sam Clams Disco" Again, you WERE warned, OZ no forwarding address