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Riddle:
A group of privates were standing in the blistering sun facing due west. Their sergeant shouted at them: Right turn! About turn! Left turn!
In which direction are they now facing?
Riddle:
Death and taxes; taxes and death----- They're sure to be with us, until our last breath. So, try to save money-----How much can you save? They'll nickel us and dime us-----Right down to the grave. And now that you've heard my negative chant, tell me the man's name you hear in my rant.
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