A WOMAN'S POEM:
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won't be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand.
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other.
And relish visits with my mother.
A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast
nymphomaniac with big tits who
owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking.
This doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.
MARIJUANA FILLED FIREWOOD'
'Hello, is this the Sheriff's Office?'
'Yes. What can I do for you?'
'I'm calling to report 'bout my neighbor Virgil Smith....
He's hidin' marijuana inside his firewood! Don't quite know
how he gets it inside them logs, but he's hidin' it there.'
'Thank you very much for the call, sir.'
The next day, the Sheriff's Deputies descend on Virgil's house.
They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana.
They sneer at Virgil and leave.
Shortly, the phone rings at Virgil's house.
'Hey, Virgil! This here's Floyd....Did the Sheriff come?'
'Did they chop your firewood?'
'Happy Birthday, buddy!'
(Rednecks know how to git-R-dun).
HOW TO SELL TOOTHBRUSHES.................
The kids filed back into class Monday morning.
They were very excited.
Their weekend assignment was to sell something,
Then give a talk on productive salesmanship.
Eventually, it was Little Johnny's turn.
The teacher held her breath.
Little Johnny walked to the front of the classroom and dumped a box full of cash on the teacher's desk.
"$2,467," he said.
"$2,467!" cried the teacher,
"What in the world were you selling?"
"Toothbrushes," said little Johnny..
"Toothbrushes," echoed the teacher,
"How could you possibly sell enough tooth brushes to make that much money?"
"I found the busiest corner in town," said Little Johnny,
"I set up a Dip & Chip stand.
I gave everybody who walked by a sample.
They all said the same thing,
"Hey, this tastes like shit!"
Then I would say,
"It is shit. Wanna buy a toothbrush?