"J. Clarke" wrote in message
...


I believe I've told the story of Mustafa here before, but people seem to
like it so I'll repeat it.

At one time I was an active target shooter. A friend and I had planned a
day at the range. As soon as we got set up, it started to rain. Hard.
One of those rains where the targets turned to mush and you couldn't see
them from the line anyway. So we decided to hang it up and went home.
On the way to the parking area I slipped in the mud. At the time I had
hair down to my ass, beard, etc, most of it not very well maintained.

We got to my place, he went in first, I went after, bringing both our
armamentariums for the purpose of cleaning them. I closed the door, took
three steps, and there came the dreaded knock. I turned, and opened the
door, mud from head to toe, bearded, long haired, unkempt, not in a
particularly good mood, and festooned with a small arsenal. It was the
Witnesses. For some reason the Muse was upon me that day and I turned and
yelled in a mock Middle Eastern accent toward the back of the apartment
"Hey, Mus-ta-FA, want to discuss religion with the infidel?" I turned
around. There was a shoe.

Didn't see another JW again until I had moved to another state halfway
across the country.


Clarke - you are forgiven a large amount of past sins for this. Precious.

--

-Mike-