Bob works hard at the plant and spends two nights each week bowling and plays golf every Saturday.

His wife thinks he’s pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she takes him to a local strip club.

The doorman at the club greets them and says, “Hey, Bob! How ya doin?”
His wife is puzzled and asks if he’s been to this club before.
“Oh no,” says Bob. “He’s in my bowling team.”

When they are seated, a waitress asks Bob if he’d like his usual and brings over a Budweiser.

His wife is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and says,
“How did she know that you drink Budweiser?”
“I recognize her; she’s the waitress from the golf club.
I always have a Bud at the end of the 1st nine, honey.”

A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around Bob, starts to rub herself all over him and says, “Hi Bobby. Want your usual table dance, big boy?”

Bob’s wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club.
Bob follows and spots her getting into a cab.
Before she can slam the door, he jumps in beside her.

Bob tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife is having none of it.
She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every 4 letter word in the book.

The cab driver turns around and says,
“Gee, Bob, you picked up a real bitch this time.”

The funeral for BOB is on Friday!

• 0 Comments

Wanting to lose weight, a woman placed a picture of a shapely pinup model INSIDE her refrigerator to remind her of her goal. It worked like a charm, as the woman discovered that she had lost ten pounds in the first month of using this method.

The downside to this was that her husband spent so much time going into the refrigerator to look at the picture that he ended up gaining fifteen pounds!

• 0 Comments

Here is why you should wear pajamas to bed!

• 0 Comments

The phone rings and the lady of the house answers, “Hello.”
“Mrs Sanders, please.”
“Speaking.”

“Mrs Sanders, this is Doctor Jones at Saint Agnes Laboratory.When your husband’s doctor sent his biopsy to the lab last week, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well. We are now uncertain which one belongs to your husband. Frankly, either way the results are not too good.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.

“Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer’s and the other one tested positive for HIV. We can’t tell which is which.”
“That’s dreadful! Can you do the test again?” questioned Mrs. Sanders.
“Normally we can, but Medicare will only pay for these expensive tests one time.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do now?”

“The folks at Medicare recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town.

If he finds his way home, don’t sleep with him.”

• 0 Comments