<all via b1-66er>
Alf: The game of Skleen Ball is very simple. You sling your can of anchovies into the opponent's laundry basket.
Son: Can you eat the anchovies afterward?
Alf: NO! Does Marvin Hagler eat his trunks after a match?
Daughter: Mom, why is there nothing to drink in this house except Perrier?
Mom: Alf gets it at cost from the French Embassy.
Alf to cat in fake British accent: One minute to go, Luck-Meister, then I'll be down on you like a buzzard on a meat wagon.
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