A friend called recently to let me know that they were about to be published in dead tree format. "Oh really? Now nice!" I replied, and then was forced to share this joke:
Two Atlanta matrons are sitting in an airliner on the Hartsfield tarmac, bound for a holiday season junket to London. One looks at the other and says "Did you know, my Edward bought me this trip for Christmas. Paid for the whole thing."
The second woman looked at her and replied "Why, how nice! How very, very nice!"
"And do you know what else he got me for Christmas?" continued the first, waving a digit sporting an enormous rock around "This beautiful diamond ring!"
"Why, how nice! How very, very nice!" said her seatmate.
"To top it all off, he gave me this grand fur coat, to keep the awful English chill away," finished the first lady, beaming smugly as she patted the luxurious mink.
Dutifully, the second responded with "Why, how nice! How very, very nice!"
"And what did your husband give you for Christmas?"
"Oh," was the airy response "Just a book on etiquette."
"A book on etiquette? Whatever good is that?"
"Well," said the long-suffering woman with an air of great patience, "It taught me to say 'How nice! How very, very nice!' instead of 'F&*$ you.'"