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As with many funerals, it was a cloudy, rainy day. The deceased was a little old lady who had devoted her entire married life to fussing and bitching at her poor husband. When the graveside service had no more than terminated, there was a tremendous burst of thunder accompanied by a distant lightning bolt and more rumbling thunder. The little old husband looked at the preacher and calmly said, "Well, I guess she's there." |