Chapter 402

A while back, when I was considerably younger, I picked up a lovely date at her parents' home.

I'd scraped together some money to take her to a fancy restaurant.

She ordered the most expensive items on the menu. Shrimp cocktail. Lobster. Patron. Champagne.

I asked her, "Does your mother feed you like that when you eat at home?"

"No," she replied. "but my mother's not expecting a blow job and a piece of ass tonight."

I said "Would you care for dessert?"

This one is compliments of John:

Selling my stuff if I die:

The older you are and the longer you've been married, the funnier this is.

One lazy Sunday morning the wife and I were quiet and thoughtful, sitting around the breakfast table when I said to her unexpectedly, "When I die, I want you to sell all my stuff, immediately."

"Now why would you want me to do something like that?" she asked.

I figure that a woman as fine as yourself would eventually remarry and I don't want some other arsehole using my stuff."

She looked at me quizzically and said: "What makes you think that I'd marry another arsehole?"