The family is sitting at the dinner table. The son asks his
father, 'Dad, how many kinds of boobies are there?'
The father, surprised, answers, 'Well son, there's three kinds of breasts. In
her twenties, a woman's breasts are like melons, round & firm. In her
thirties & forties, they are like pears, still nice, but hanging a bit.
After fifty, they are like onions.' 'Onions?' 'Yes, you see them, and they
make you cry.'
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter
says, 'Mom, how many types of 'willies' are there?' The mother, surprised,
smiles and answers, 'Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his
twenties, his willie is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties
& forties, it's like a birch tree, flexible but reliable. After his
fifties, it is like a Christmas tree.' 'A Christmas tree??'
'Yes
dear, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only.'
father, 'Dad, how many kinds of boobies are there?'
The father, surprised, answers, 'Well son, there's three kinds of breasts. In
her twenties, a woman's breasts are like melons, round & firm. In her
thirties & forties, they are like pears, still nice, but hanging a bit.
After fifty, they are like onions.' 'Onions?' 'Yes, you see them, and they
make you cry.'
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter
says, 'Mom, how many types of 'willies' are there?' The mother, surprised,
smiles and answers, 'Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his
twenties, his willie is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties
& forties, it's like a birch tree, flexible but reliable. After his
fifties, it is like a Christmas tree.' 'A Christmas tree??'
'Yes
dear, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only.'