Three senior ladies named Marlene, Janet and Connie were sitting on a park bench having a quiet conversation when a flasher approached from across the park.
The flasher came up to the ladies, stood right in front of them and opened his trench coat.
Connie immediately had a stroke.
Then Janet also had a stroke.
But Marlene, being older and more feeble, couldn't reach that far.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Fidel in Hell
Fidel dies and goes to heaven. When he gets there, St. Peter tells him that he is not on the list and that no way, no how, does he belong in heaven. Fidel must go to hell. So Fidel goes to hell where Satan gives him a hearty welcome and tells him to make himself right at home.
Then, Fidel notices that he accidentally left his luggage back in heaven and tells Satan, who says, "No hay problema. I'll send a couple of little devils to get your stuff."
When the little devils get to heaven, they find the gates are locked - St. Peter is having lunch - and they start debating what to do. Finally, one comes up with the idea that they should climb over the wall and get the luggage.
As they are climbing the wall, two little angels see them, and one angel says to the other, "My goodness! Fidel has been in hell no more than ten minutes and we're already getting refugees."
Then, Fidel notices that he accidentally left his luggage back in heaven and tells Satan, who says, "No hay problema. I'll send a couple of little devils to get your stuff."
When the little devils get to heaven, they find the gates are locked - St. Peter is having lunch - and they start debating what to do. Finally, one comes up with the idea that they should climb over the wall and get the luggage.
As they are climbing the wall, two little angels see them, and one angel says to the other, "My goodness! Fidel has been in hell no more than ten minutes and we're already getting refugees."
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Weekend Carwash
A new scam is being pulled on women mainly in broad daylight. What happens is that when the intended victim stops at a traffic light, an almost NUDE, good looking, tanned, muscled young man comes up to her car and pretends to wash the windshield….
While he is doing this, another young, handsome athletic man opens the back door of the car, jumps in and insists the woman drive off with him to some lonely spot, where he has his way with her…. They are very good at this…
They got me three times Friday and five times Saturday..
...................I couldn't find them on Sunday.
While he is doing this, another young, handsome athletic man opens the back door of the car, jumps in and insists the woman drive off with him to some lonely spot, where he has his way with her…. They are very good at this…
They got me three times Friday and five times Saturday..
...................I couldn't find them on Sunday.
Friday, September 22, 2006
A guy walks into a bar with an octopus...
A guy walks into a bar with an octopus.
He sits the octopus down on a stool and tells everyone in the bar that this is a very talented octopus. He can play any musical instrument in the world. Everyone in the bar laughs at the man, calling him an idiot. So he says that he will wager to anyone who has an instrument that the octopus can't play.
A customer walks up with a guitar and sets it beside the octopus. Immediately the octopus picks up the guitar and starts playing better than Jimmy Hendrix. The guitar owner pays up. Another customer walks up with a trumpet. This time the octopus plays the trumpet better than Miles Davis. The trumpet-owner coughs up.
Then Jim, a Scotsman, plonks some bagpipes on the table. The octopus fumbles with the bagpipes for a minute and then backs off with a confused look.
"Ha!" the Scot says. "Can ye nae plae it?"
The octopus looks up at him and says, "Play it? I'm going to shag it as soon as I figure out how to get its pyjamas off."
He sits the octopus down on a stool and tells everyone in the bar that this is a very talented octopus. He can play any musical instrument in the world. Everyone in the bar laughs at the man, calling him an idiot. So he says that he will wager to anyone who has an instrument that the octopus can't play.
A customer walks up with a guitar and sets it beside the octopus. Immediately the octopus picks up the guitar and starts playing better than Jimmy Hendrix. The guitar owner pays up. Another customer walks up with a trumpet. This time the octopus plays the trumpet better than Miles Davis. The trumpet-owner coughs up.
Then Jim, a Scotsman, plonks some bagpipes on the table. The octopus fumbles with the bagpipes for a minute and then backs off with a confused look.
"Ha!" the Scot says. "Can ye nae plae it?"
The octopus looks up at him and says, "Play it? I'm going to shag it as soon as I figure out how to get its pyjamas off."
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Internet is for Porn
| This is for sure the funnies WoW movie I've seen + it has the greatest catchy tune I've ever heard! Download it and you'll sing along very soon ;) Note that there is NO nudity or something like that in it! The song is from the Broadway show, Avenue Q (www.avenueq.com) and the soundtrack is available on Amazon. Please note that I (the uploader) am not the creator of this funny movie. Hence that I DO NOT take ANY credits what-so-ever for it, I just uploaded it so you guys at WCM could see it. The guys over at Argent Dawn (EU) made this clip and my guess is that Evilhoof and Flayed is the creators of it so ALL credits to THEM for this great music video! You guys rock! | |
Monday, September 18, 2006
Red-Neck Mama
Redneck Mama
A woman walks into the downtown welfare office, trailed by 15 kids...
"WOW," the social worker exclaims," are they ALL YOURS???"
"Yep they are all mine," the flustered momma sighs, having heard that question a thousand times before. She says, "Sit down Leroy."
All the children rush to find seats.
"Well," says the social worker, "then you must be here to sign up. I'll need all your children's names."
"This one's my oldest - he is Leroy."
"OK, and who's next?"
"Well, this one he is Leroy, also."
The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues. One by one, through the oldest four, all boys, all named Leroy. Then she is introduced to the eldest girl, named Leighroy!
"All right," says the caseworker. "I'm seeing a pattern here. Are they ALL named Leroy?"
Their Momma replied,! "Well, yes-it makes it easier. When it is time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, 'Leroy!' An' when it's time for dinner, I just yell 'Leroy!' an' they all comes a runnin.'
An' if I need to stop the kid who's running into the street, I just yell 'Leroy' and all of them stop. It's the smartest idea I ever had, namin' them all Leroy."
The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, "But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch?"
"I call them by their last names."
A woman walks into the downtown welfare office, trailed by 15 kids...
"WOW," the social worker exclaims," are they ALL YOURS???"
"Yep they are all mine," the flustered momma sighs, having heard that question a thousand times before. She says, "Sit down Leroy."
All the children rush to find seats.
"Well," says the social worker, "then you must be here to sign up. I'll need all your children's names."
"This one's my oldest - he is Leroy."
"OK, and who's next?"
"Well, this one he is Leroy, also."
The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues. One by one, through the oldest four, all boys, all named Leroy. Then she is introduced to the eldest girl, named Leighroy!
"All right," says the caseworker. "I'm seeing a pattern here. Are they ALL named Leroy?"
Their Momma replied,! "Well, yes-it makes it easier. When it is time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, 'Leroy!' An' when it's time for dinner, I just yell 'Leroy!' an' they all comes a runnin.'
An' if I need to stop the kid who's running into the street, I just yell 'Leroy' and all of them stop. It's the smartest idea I ever had, namin' them all Leroy."
The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, "But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch?"
"I call them by their last names."
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Letter from Bob
It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.
My name is Bob. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife. When I took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for my wife to get a full-time job along with her part time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf course about the same time she gets home from work.
Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the
club so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home cooked grub when I hit that door.
She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over
two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support my wife. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However,
guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.
Signed,
Bob
EDITOR'S NOTE: Bob died suddenly on May 27th. The police report says that he was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club rammed up his ass, with only 2 inches of grip showing. His wife was arrested and charged with murder; however, the all-woman jury found her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that he accidentally sat down on it.
My name is Bob. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife. When I took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for my wife to get a full-time job along with her part time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf course about the same time she gets home from work.
Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the
club so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home cooked grub when I hit that door.
She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over
two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support my wife. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However,
guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.
Signed,
Bob
EDITOR'S NOTE: Bob died suddenly on May 27th. The police report says that he was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club rammed up his ass, with only 2 inches of grip showing. His wife was arrested and charged with murder; however, the all-woman jury found her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that he accidentally sat down on it.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Hospital Tour
A wealthy hospital benefactor was being shown around the hospital. During her tour she passed a room where a male patient was masturbating furiously.
"Oh my GOD!" screamed the woman. "That's disgraceful! Why is he doing that?"
The doctor who was leading the tour calmly explained, "I'm very sorry that you were exposed to that, but this man has a serious condition where his testicles rapidly fill with semen, and if he doesn't do that at least five times a day, he'll be in extreme pain and his testicles could easily rupture."
"Oh, well in that case, I guess it's okay," said the woman.
As they passed by the very next room, they saw a male patient laying in bed while a nurse performed oral sex on him. Again, the woman screamed, "Oh my GOD! How can THAT be justified?"
Again the doctor spoke very calmly: "Same illness, better health plan."
"Oh my GOD!" screamed the woman. "That's disgraceful! Why is he doing that?"
The doctor who was leading the tour calmly explained, "I'm very sorry that you were exposed to that, but this man has a serious condition where his testicles rapidly fill with semen, and if he doesn't do that at least five times a day, he'll be in extreme pain and his testicles could easily rupture."
"Oh, well in that case, I guess it's okay," said the woman.
As they passed by the very next room, they saw a male patient laying in bed while a nurse performed oral sex on him. Again, the woman screamed, "Oh my GOD! How can THAT be justified?"
Again the doctor spoke very calmly: "Same illness, better health plan."
Friday, September 08, 2006
Guy and Girl in a Van
A young couple were making passionate love in the guy's van when suddenly the girl, being a bit on the kinky side, yells out 'Oh big boy, whip me, whip me!' The guy, not wanting to pass up this unique opportunity, obviously did not have any whips to hand, but in a flash of inspiration, he opens the window, snaps the antenna off his van and proceeds to whip the girl until they both collapse in sado-masochistic ecstasy. About a week later, the girl notices that the marks left by the whipping session are starting to fester a bit so she goes to the doctor. The doctor takes one look at the wounds and asks 'Did you get these marks having sex?' The girl is a little embarrassed but admits that, yes, she did.
Nodding his head knowingly the doctor exclaims, 'I thought so, because in all my years in this profession..... ...you've got the worst case of van aerial disease that I've ever seen.....'
Nodding his head knowingly the doctor exclaims, 'I thought so, because in all my years in this profession..... ...you've got the worst case of van aerial disease that I've ever seen.....'
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Wax is NOT Your Friend
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my *hoo-hoo* and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. OH NO! What have I done???!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. WHAT?! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. My LIFE FLASHES BEFORE ME!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. *hoo-hoo*? Sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!!
I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? WRONG!!!!!!!
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement- epoxied myself to the porcelain!!
God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hoo-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!
So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my *hoo-hoo* and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. OH NO! What have I done???!!! Another deep breath and RRIIPP!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. WHAT?! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.
Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. My LIFE FLASHES BEFORE ME!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. *hoo-hoo*? Sealed shut! Butt?? Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!!
I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? WRONG!!!!!!!
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement- epoxied myself to the porcelain!!
God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter - "So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hoo-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.
I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!!
So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Things You Don't See Everyday
Lately, I've received a lot of funny or unusual pictures, so I'm starting a series called "Things You Don't See Everyday" I'll try to post one picture a day. I hope you enjoy it!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Funny Commercial
| I just got a Blaupunkt radio for the minivan. :-) Visit www.vewgle.com The google video forum... to discuss this and other videos. | |
Friday, September 01, 2006
Be Careful For What You Wish...
A man was sick and tired of going to work every day while his wife stayed home. He wanted her to see what he went through so he prayed: "Dear Lord: I go to work every day and put in 8 hours while my wife merely stays at home. I want her to know what I go through, so please allow her body to switch with mine for a day. Amen."
God, in his infinite wisdom, granted the man's wish. The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman.He arose, cooked break fast for his mate, awakened the kids, Set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches,Drove them to school, came home and picked up the dry cleaning, took it to the cleaners. And stopped at the bank to make a deposit, went grocery shopping, Then drove home to put away the groceries, paid the bills and balanced the checkbook. He cleaned the cat's litter box and bathed the dog. Then it was already 1 P.M. and he hurried to make the beds, do the laundry, vacuum, dust, and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. He ran to the school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home. He set out milk and cookies and got the kids organized to do their homework,then set up the ironing board and watched TV while he did the ironing.
At 4:30 he began peeling potatoes and washing vegetables for salad, breaded the pork chops and snapped fresh beans for supper. After supper, he cleaned the kitchen, ran the ndishwasher, folded laundry, bathed the kids, and put them to bed. At 9 P.M. he was exhausted and, though his daily chores weren't finished, he went to bed where he was expected to make love, which he managed to get through without complaint.
The next morning, he awoke and immediately knelt by the bed and said, Lord, I don't know what I was thinking. I was so wrong to envy my wife's being able to stay home all day. Please, oh please, let us trade back."
The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, replied, "My son, I feel you have learned your lesson and I will be happy to change things back to the way they were. You'll just have to wait nine months, though. You got pregnant last night."
God, in his infinite wisdom, granted the man's wish. The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman.He arose, cooked break fast for his mate, awakened the kids, Set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches,Drove them to school, came home and picked up the dry cleaning, took it to the cleaners. And stopped at the bank to make a deposit, went grocery shopping, Then drove home to put away the groceries, paid the bills and balanced the checkbook. He cleaned the cat's litter box and bathed the dog. Then it was already 1 P.M. and he hurried to make the beds, do the laundry, vacuum, dust, and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. He ran to the school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home. He set out milk and cookies and got the kids organized to do their homework,then set up the ironing board and watched TV while he did the ironing.
At 4:30 he began peeling potatoes and washing vegetables for salad, breaded the pork chops and snapped fresh beans for supper. After supper, he cleaned the kitchen, ran the ndishwasher, folded laundry, bathed the kids, and put them to bed. At 9 P.M. he was exhausted and, though his daily chores weren't finished, he went to bed where he was expected to make love, which he managed to get through without complaint.
The next morning, he awoke and immediately knelt by the bed and said, Lord, I don't know what I was thinking. I was so wrong to envy my wife's being able to stay home all day. Please, oh please, let us trade back."
The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, replied, "My son, I feel you have learned your lesson and I will be happy to change things back to the way they were. You'll just have to wait nine months, though. You got pregnant last night."
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