Sometimes you have to share a joke in this modern world, especially if its humor addresses an eternal question.
An American, a Frenchman, and a Vietnamese refugee had a discussion about the happiness of life.
“To me, happiness is returning home on a Monday evening, having a wonderful dinner prepared by my wife, then slouching on the sofa watching Monday Night Football,” the American said.
“You Americans are not romantic at all”, the French injected, “Spending a lovely evening with my lover, walking along the Seine River, and having a romantic dinner on top of the Eiffel tower. That is happiness of life.”
“You call those things happiness”, the Vietnamese said, “then you two still don’t understand life at all. Imagine this. You are sleeping soundly at night in Sai-gon. Suddenly you hear loud knocks on your front door. You hear loud voices, ‘Mr. Nguyen Tuong Van, open the door!’.
Awakened with fear, you rush out and open the door. Right there, you see two secret policemen ready to handcuff you. One man says to you, ‘Mr. Nguyen Tuong Van, you are under arrest for possession of heroin. You are being sent to Changi to be hanged. Sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably, you reply to them, ‘Comrades, Mr. Nguyen Tuong Van lives next door.’ That moment is the ultimate happiness of life, my friends.