I think my book will be written on the Arabian Nights style:- One story a day.
The steward on the plane asked us: What do you want, chicken or pasta? The old man sitting next to me on the plane asked him: what kind of chicken?
The steward smiled and said: “The one that had feathers on it.”
An instantaneous sense of humour seems to keep Americans healthy.
How come staying for a month or so in a corner of USA makes you to think that only Americans have a good sense of humor?