One of the few e-mail forwards that actually enjoyed.
Dear Friends:
It is with the saddest heart that I have to pass on the following sad news.
Please join me in remembering a great icon. Veteran Pillsbury spokesperson, The Pillsbury Doughboy, died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes to the belly. He was 61. Doughboy was buried in a slightly greased coffin.
Dozens of celebrities turned out, including Mrs. Butterworth, the California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, Captain Crunch, and many others.
The grave side was piled high with flours as longtime friend, Aunt Jemima, she said he was a man who “never knew how much he was kneaded.”
Doughboy rose quickly in show business but his later life was filled with many turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, even as a crusty old man he was considered a roll model for millions. Toward the end it was thought he’d rise once again, but he was no tart.
Doughboy is survived by his second wife, Play Dough. They have two children and one in the oven. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
God is my co-pilot. Blame Him.
An oldie. Clever, but an oldie.
“His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad,
Figures. I wish there was someplace you could check out how stale a joke is before you serve it for dinner.