Thursday, August 3, 2017
Greetings Laff Lovers,
As my grandfather was always dropping pearls of wisdom on me, I thought I would share a few of the more memorable ones with my faithful readers before they disappear into the depths of my memory. One of the gems he gave me was, "TZ, marry a woman with small hands. It makes your dick look bigger." But the one that just popped into my head is, "TZ, getting old ain't for pussies." And lately, as I feel the effects of forty-some years (more or less) of crawling around on this cosmic ball of dirt, I've come to appreciate his wisdom.
I've been suspecting that I'm getting old, but something just happened to prove it. I walked into the office, sarcastically thanked our tri-athlete IT guy for the donuts he brought in, then told the head of customer that her new hairstyle gave me a spontaneous stiffy without feeling any embarrassment about it, but that's not what made me feel old. That's all just part of a normal day.
What made me feel old is when I sat down into my chair I sat on my own balls.
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Why is it when a girl sleeps with a bunch of guys, she's a slut?
But when a guy does it, he's all of a sudden gay?
There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky tits and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.
I spent a couple of hours defrosting the fridge last night, or "foreplay" as she likes to call it.
Stanley died in a fire and his body was burned pretty badly. The morgue needed someone to identify the body, so they sent for his two best deer hunting friends, Cooter and Gomer. The three men had always hunted and fished together and were long time members of a hunting camp.
Cooter arrived first, and when the mortician pulled back the sheet, Cooter said, "Yup, his face is burned up pretty bad. You better roll him over." The mortician rolled him over and Cooter said, "Nope, ain't Stanley ."
The mortician thought this was rather strange, So he brought Gomer in to confirm the identity of the body. Gomer looked at the body and said, "Yup, he's pretty well burnt up. Roll him over." The mortician rolled him over and Gomer said, "No, it ain't Stanley."
The mortician asked, "How can you tell?" Gomer said, "Well, Stanley had two ass-holes."
"What! He had two ass-holes?" asked the mortician.
"Yup, we never seen 'em, but everybody used to say, There's Stanley with them two ass-holes."