Slay.me

A guy is sitting at a bar just staring at his drink for half an hour when this big, trouble-making biker steps next to him, grabs his drink, gulps it down in one swig and then turns to the guy with a menacing stare as if to say, ‘

What’cha gonna do about it?”

The poor little guy starts crying.

“Come on man, I was just giving you a hard time,” the biker says. “I didn’t think you’d  CRY. I can’t stand to see a man crying.”

“This is the worst day of my life,” says the little guy between sobs. “I can’t do anything right. I overslept and was late to an important meeting, so my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car was stolen and I don’t have any insurance. I left my wallet in  the cab I took home.”  He continues, crying even harder. “Then I found my wife in bed with the gardener and my dog bit me. So, I came to this bar trying to work up the courage to put an end to my life, and then you show up and drank the damn poison.”

No matter what this husband did in bed, his wife never achieved an orgasm..

Since a Jewish wife is entitled to sexual pleasure, they decide to consult their Rabbi. The Rabbi listens to their story, strokes his beard, and makes the following suggestion:

‘Hire a strapping young man. While the two of you are making love, have the young man wave a towel over you.

That will help your wife fantasize and should bring on an orgasm..’

They go home and follow the Rabbi’s advice. They hire a handsome young man and he waves a towel over them as they make love. It does not help and the wife is still unsatisfied. Perplexed, they go back to the Rabbi.

‘Okay,’ he says to the husband, ‘Try it reversed. Have the young man make love to your wife and you wave the towel over them.’

Once again, they follow the Rabbi’s advice. They go home and hire, the same strapping young man. The young man gets into bed with the wife and the husband waves the towel.

The young man gets to work with great enthusiasm and soon she has an enormous, room-shaking, ear-splitting screaming orgasm. The husband smiles, looks at the young man and says to him triumphantly,

‘See that, you schmuck? THAT’S how you wave a towel!!

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN GUILTY OF LOOKING AT OTHERS YOUR
OWN AGE AND THINKING, SURELY I CAN’T LOOK THAT OLD.
WELL . . . YOU’LL LOVE THIS ONE.

MY NAME IS ALICE , AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING
ROOM FOR MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST.

I NOTICED HIS DDS DIPLOMA ON THE WALL, WHICH BORE HIS
FULL NAME. SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME,
DARK-HAIREDBOY WITH THE SAME NAME HAD BEEN IN MY HIGH SCHOOL
CLASS SOME 30-ODD YEARS AGO.

COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON,
WAY BACK THEN?

UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH
THOUGHT.

THIS BALDING, GRAY-HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED
FACE WAS WAY TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE.

AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD
ATTENDED MORGAN PARK HIGH SCHOOL …

“YES. YES, I DID. I’M A MUSTANG,” HE GLEAMED WITH
PRIDE.

WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?’ I ASKED.

HE ANSWERED, “IN 1975. WHY DO YOU ASK?”

“YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!” I EXCLAIMED.

HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.

THEN, THAT UGLY,

OLD,

BALD,

WRINKLED FACED,

FAT-ASSED,

GRAY-HAIRED,

DECREPIT

SON-OF-A-BITCH

ASKED,

“WHAT DID YOU TEACH???”