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On my 66th birthday, I got a gift certificate from my wife. The certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction.. After being persuaded, I drove to the reservation, handed my ticket to the medicine man and wondered what would happen next.
The old man slowly, methodically produced a potion, handed it to me, and with a grip on my shoulder, warned, "This is powerful medicine and it must be respected. You take only a teaspoonful and then say '1-2-3. 'When you do that, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life and you can perform as long as you want."
I was encouraged. As I walked away, I turned and asked, "How do I stop the medicine from working?" "Your partner must say '1-2-3-4,' he responded. "But when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."
I was very eager to see if it worked so I went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited my wife to join me in the bedroom. When she came in, I took off my clothes and said, "1-2-3!"
Immediately, I was the manliest of men. My wife was excited 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!
A group of 3rd, 4th and 5th graders, accompanied by two female teachers, went on a field trip to the local racetrack, (Churchill Downs) to learn about thoroughbred horses and the supporting industry (Bourbon), but mostly to see the horses.
When it was time to take the children to the bathroom, it was decided that the girls would go with one teacher and the boys would go with the other. The teacher assigned to the boys was waiting outside the men's room when one of the boys came out and told her that none of them could reach the urinals.
Having no choice, she went inside, helped the boys with their pants, and began hoisting the little boys up one by one, holding on to their 'wee-wees' to direct the flow away from their clothes. As she lifted one, she couldn't help but notice that he was unusually well endowed.
Trying not to show that she was staring the teacher said, 'You must be in the 5th grade.'
'No, ma'am', he replied. 'I'm riding Silver Arrow in the seventh race, but I appreciate your help.
