A blonde woman wants to go ice fishing. She's read books on the subject and finally, after getting all the necessary gear together, she makes her way to the nearest frozen lake. After positioning her comfy stool, she makes a circular cut in the ice.
Suddenly from the sky, a voice booms: 'There are no fish under the ice.'
The blonde, now quite worried, moves right down to the opposite end of the ice and tries again to cut her hole. The voice comes once more. 'There are NO fish under the ice.'
She stops, and looks skyward, and asks: 'Is that you, Lord?'
'No,' the voice replies. 'This is the manager of the ice rink.'
Suddenly from the sky, a voice booms: 'There are no fish under the ice.'
The blonde, now quite worried, moves right down to the opposite end of the ice and tries again to cut her hole. The voice comes once more. 'There are NO fish under the ice.'
She stops, and looks skyward, and asks: 'Is that you, Lord?'
'No,' the voice replies. 'This is the manager of the ice rink.'
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