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One Sunday in counting the money in the weekly offering the pastor of a small church found a pink envelope containing $1,000. It happened again the next week! The following Sunday, he watched as the offering was collected and saw an elderly woman put the distinctive pink envelope on the plate. This went on for weeks until the pastor, overcome by curiosity, approached her.

"Ma'am, I couldn't help but notice that you put $1,000 a week in the collection plate," he stated.

"Why, yes," she replied, "every week my son sends me money, and I give some of it to the church."

The pastor replied, "That's wonderful. But $1,000 is a lot; are you sure you can afford this? How much does he send you?"

The elderly woman answered, "$10,000 a week."

The pastor was amazed. "Your son is very successful; what does he do for a living?" "He is a veterinarian," she answered.

"That's an honorable profession, but I had no idea they made that much money," the pastor said. "Where does he practice?"

The woman answered proudly, "In Nevada ... He has two cat houses, one in Las Vegas, and one in Reno "
 
In the days of the Wild West, there was a young cowboy who wanted more than anything to be the greatest gunfighter in the world. He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn't yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong.
One Saturday night, as he was sitting in the saloon, he recognized an elderly man seated at the bar who had the reputation of being the fastest gun in the West in his day.
The young cowboy took the seat next to the old-timer, bought him a drink, and told him the story of his great ambition.
"Could you possibly give me some tips?" he asked.
The old man looked him up and down and said, "Well, for one thing, you're wearing your gun too high. Tie the holster a little lower down on your leg."
"Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man.
"Yep, sure will," said the old-timer.
The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his .44 and shot the bow tie off the piano player.
"That's terrific!" said the cowboy, "Got any more tips for me?"
"Yep," said the old man, "cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it. That'll give you a smoother draw."
"Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man.
"Yep, you bet it will," replied the old-timer.
The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, and shot a cufflink off the piano player.
"Wow!" said the cowboy, "I'm learning' somethin' here - got any more tips?"
The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. "See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it."
The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun.
"No," said the old-timer, "I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all."
"Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man.
"Nope," said the old-timer, "but when Wyatt Earp gets done playing' the piano, he's going to shove that gun up your ass, and it won't hurt as much.


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