Dad used to tell this joke: The Three Italians Three Italians approach the Pearly Gates, where St. Peter awaits to let them into heaven. “So, what’s your story?” St. Peter says to the first one. “Well, I live in an apartment building. I come home, take the elevator up to my floor, open the door to my place, find a pair of shoes on the floor. Those are not my shoes. I walk in, see a pair of pants on the bed. Those are not my pants. I look around, see a pair of hands, hangin’ onto the window sill! So I run over to the window and slam it down on his hands! He falls, falls, falls boom! Hits the ground. Sonofabitch is still alive! So I grab the refrigerator and throw it out the window. It falls, falls, falls boom! Hits the sonofabitch. He’s dead. I go downstairs, find my wife, smack her around and she pulls out a gun, boom! I’m dead.” “Sounds ok to me,” says St. Peter. “You can go through.” St. Peter turns to the second Italian, “So, what’s your story?” “I work construction. I’m on the roof of a building, when I trip over a wire and fall over the side. I fall, fall, fall and boom! Grab onto a window sill. It’s a miracle, I’m alive! Well, some sonofabitch comes over to the window and slams it down on my hands! I fall, fall, fall boom! Hit the ground. It’s a miracle, I’m still alive! Well, that same sonofabitch throws a refrigerator outta the window! It falls, falls, falls and boom! Hits me. I’m dead.” “Sounds good to me,” says St. Peter. “You can go through.” St. Peter turns to the third Italian, “So, what’s your story?” The third Italian looks at him and says, “So I’m sittin’ in a refrigerator, mindin’ my own goddamn business!” Love Rog