Here is a thought

Here's a thought . . . . If you are ready for the adventure of a lifetime, try this:

A. Go to  Pakistan ,  Afghanistan .  Iraq  or Iran illegally. Never mind immigration quotas, visas, international law, or any of that nonsense. Demand a free house, benefits and food.

B. Once there, demand that the local government provide free medical care for you and your entire family.

C. Demand that all nurses and doctors be fluent in English, and that all food be cooked according to your specifications in the hospital.

D. Demand free local government forms, bulletins, etc. Be printed in English.

E. Procreate abundantly.

F. Deflect any criticism of this allegedly irresponsible reproductive Behaviour with, 'It is a cultural thing; you wouldn't understand.'

G. Keep your original identity strong. Fly your home country's national flag from your rooftop, or proudly display it in your front window, or on your car bumper.

H. Speak only English at home and in public, and make sure that your children do likewise.

I. Demand classes on English culture in the Muslim school system.

J. Demand a local country driving license or national insurance number equivalent

K. This will afford other legal rights and will go far to legitimise your unauthorised, illegal, presence in Pakistan, Afghanistan or Iraq

L. Drive around with no car tax or insurance and ignore local traffic laws.

M. Insist that the Police teach English to all its officers.

N. Organise protest marches against your host country, inciting violence against non-white, non-Christians, and the government that let you in.

Good luck! 

Twas The Month After Christmas  Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house, Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The cookies I'd nibbled, the chocolate I'd taste All the holiday parties had gone to my waist. When I got on the scales there arose such a number! When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber), I'd remember the marvellous meals I'd prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please." As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt... I said to myself, as I only can, "You can't spend a winter, disguised as a man!" So, away with the last of the sour cream dip. Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip. Every last bit of food that I like must be banished Till all the additional ounces have vanished. I won't have a cookie, not even a lick. I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick. I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie. I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry. I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore... But isn't that what January is for? Unable to giggle, no longer a riot. Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.