A CAR LIKE THAT A
Texan drove into a gas station in the hills of Tennessee. He was wearing a big ten-gallon hat and fancy cowboy boots; he had diamond rings on both hands and was puffing a king-sized cigar. “Fill ‘er up!” he yelled at the attendant as he strolled inside. Sitting over to one side of the room on a keg was a Tennessee farmer. “Live around here?” asked the Texan. “Yep, the Tennessean answered, “that’s my place across the road.” “Oh, it is,” said the Texan condescendingly, “well tell me, how many acres have you got?” “Oh, about eighty acres, more or less.” “Only eighty acres?’ scoffed the Texan, well let me tell you about my place. Why I get in my car early in the morning and start driving in a straight line, and by noon I haven’t even reached the other side! Now, what about that?” “Yep, I know what you mean,” the Tennessee farmer replied, “I used to…
To view this resource, log in or sign up for a subscription plan
