Hi Folks,
A French Foreign Legion private is serving in a hot, dusty fort in North Africa.
Every day is the same: torrid, fly-bitten, monotonous.
One day there is a great commotion from the lookouts, and, for the first time, the front gates burst open.
Men stream out, running toward the horizon.
The private joins the pack, and running alongside his sergeant, asks, ^What's happening?^
^Camels!^ replies the sergeant!
^Camels?^... But why are we running?^
^Well you don't want to get an ugly one, do you?^
Sal
:embarassed: