One bitterly cold winter night in 1939, a London streetwalker named Sybil slipped inside a church to get warm, and she heard a preacher talking about sin and forgiveness and redemption. Sybil was inspired to make a career change, and soon afterward she opened a fish and chip shop.
Business was good until the war broke out, and then times got rough. One day a sign appeared in the front window of Sybil’s shop:
Thanks to Hitler
The fish are littler.
A few weeks later another sign appeared:
Thanks to Hess
The chips are less.
Two months later Sybil’s shop was boarded up. This time the sign in the window read:
Thanks to Göering
I’ve returned to my former profession.
A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.
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groan
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Sounds fishy, but, the chips fell where they may…
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PS – as a kid my father was stationed at Bentwaters RAFB, just outside of Leiston, closest “major” city was Ipswich. 1959 to 1962.
I couldn’t figure out why the fish & chips were so much tastier when I was a kid (over in England), until somebody remined me that they were fried in lard, NOT corn or Canola oil!!
Ah, the misspent days of my youth…
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Tempting!
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