Ralph came home drunk one night, slid into bed beside his sleeping wife, and fell into a deep slumber.
He awoke before the Pearly Gates, where St. Peter said, ´You died in your sleep, Ralph.´
Ralph was stunned. ´I´m dead? No, I can´t be! I´ve got too much to live for. Send me back!´
St. Peter said, ´I´m sorry, but there´s only one way you can go back, and that is as a chicken.´
Ralph was devastated, but begged St. Peter to send him to a farm near his home. The next thing he knew, he was covered with feathers, clucking, and pecking the ground.
A rooster strolled past. ´So, you´re the new hen, huh? How´s your first day here?´
´Not bad,´ replied Ralph the hen, ´but I have this strange feeling inside. Like I´m gonna explode!´
´You´re ovulating,´ explained the rooster. ´Don ´t tell me you´ve never laid an egg before?´
´Never,´ said Ralph.
´Well, just relax and let it happen,´ says the rooster. ´It´s no big deal.´
Ralph did, and a few uncomfortable seconds later, out popped an egg!
Ralph was overcome with emotion as he experienced motherhood. He soon laid another egg -- his joy was overwhelming.
As he was about to lay his third egg, he felt a smack on the back of his head, and heard his wife shout.....
´Dammit, Ralph! Wake up. You´re shitting in the bed!´
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You can\'t be a Real Country unless you have a BEER and an airline - it helps if you have some kind of a football team or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a BEER.
Frank Zappa