A blonde wanted to go ice fishing. She'd seen many books on the
subject, and finally, after getting all the necessary "tools"
together, she made for the nearest frozen water. After positioning
her comfy footstool, she started to make a circular cut in the ice.
Suddenly—from the sky—a voice boomed,
"THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!"
Startled, the Blonde moved further down the ice, poured a Thermos
cup of cappuccino, and began to cut yet another hole. Again, from
the heavens, the voice bellowed, "THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!"
The Blonde, now quite worried, moved way down to the
opposite end of the ice, set up her stool, and tried again to cut her hole.
The voice came once more: "THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!"
She stopped, looked skyward, and said, "Is that you, Lord?"
The voice replied, "No, I'm the ice rink manager!"
Submitted by reader M.B.