A neighbor knocked on Mulla's door. "Mulla, can you write a letter for me?" "Who is it going to?" "My friend in Baghdad." Mulla shook his head. "Sorry, I can't do it. I don't have time to travel all the way to Baghdad right now." The neighbor was confused. "Who asked you to go to Baghdad? I just need you to write a letter." "I know," Mulla sighed. "But my handwriting is so terrible that nobody else can read it. If I write it, they're just going to make me come all the way down there to read it to them."