December 23, 2018

Greetings Laff Lovers,

Happy holidays and Merry Christmas, folks. Starting next week I am taking a few days off. Don't worry, I have prepared some Laff-a-Day issues ahead of time so you won't have to take a break from my wit and wisdom even while I'm taking a break from responsibility.

I have to admit, I could use the time off. I have been running myself ragged the last week or so. Just about the only thing I haven't taken care of this last week is my marital responsibilities. And with seven whole days off I plan on making up for a lot of lost time.

I'm going to have the wife begging me to leave her alone come next Sunday... which will be a nice role reversal.

So enjoy yourself, stay safe, be generous with friends and family, and I'll talk to you again next year!

Charitably,

TZ

Send me comments, jokes and pictures of all the hot women in your family at this link: tz@gophercentral.com

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If you're singing Christmas songs on your neighbor's lawn at night with your church group, it's called "caroling."

But if you're doing it alone with no pants on, it's called "drunk and disorderly."



My wife has this red 'Christmas' lingerie with faux fur around the neck and cuffs and it comes with a little Santa hat.

"I hate this outfit," I said when she walked into the room.

She replied, "Then why are you wearing it?"



I bet it was really tough being an Apostle of Jesus. What if you wanted a day off?

You ring up Jesus and say, "Jesus, I'm sick today, running a little fever and feeling congested so I won't be able to make it to today's sermon. What...? Say that again...? I'm healed?"

A family is at the dinner table. The son asks the father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?" The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, a woman goes through three phases. In her 20s, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s and 40s, they are like pears, still nice, but hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions."

"Onions?" the son asks.

"Yes. You see them and they make you cry."

This infuriated his wife and daughter, so the daughter said, 'Mom, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?'

The mother smiles and answers, "Well dear, a man goes through three phases also. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree."

"A Christmas tree?"

"Yes -- dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration."