Tuesday, 17 June 2008

I say, I say, I say....

Here we go. Pub joke. Not too filthy. I little intellectual if anything! Can't claim ownership, but it made me snigger...

On his 60th birthday, a friend of mine received a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate paid for a visit to an Aboriginal witch doctor who was rumoured to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After much persuasion, he drove to the community clinic, handed his certificate to the witch doctor, wondering what was in store for him.

The old man slowly, methodically produced a potion, handed it to him and, with a grip on my friend's shoulder warned, 'Dis powerful medicine and must be respected. You take only a teaspoonful and then say '1-2-3.' When you do that, you will be longer and harder than you have ever been in your life and you can perform as long as you want.'

Much encouraged my friend walked away then turned and asked, 'How do I stop the medicine from working?'

'Your wife must say '1-2-3-4,' the witch doctor replied. 'But when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon.

Eager to see if it worked, my friend hurried home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in, he took off his clothes and said, '1-2-3!'

Immediately, he was the manliest of men.

His wife was excited as well and began throwing off her clothes and then she asked, 'What was the 1-2-3 for?'

And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition!

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