A husband and wife go visit a marriage counselor. First, the wife speaks to the counselor alone.
The counselor asks, “You say you’ve been married 20 years, so what seems to be the problem?”
The wife replies, “It’s my husband — he’s driving me crazy! I’m going to leave him if he continues!”
“How does he drive you crazy?”
“For 20 years,” she says, “he’s been doing these stupid things. First, whenever we go out, he’s always looking at the floor and refuses to go near anyone. It’s very embarrassing.”
The marriage counselor is amused, “Anything else?”
“He keeps picking his nose all the time! Even in public!”
“Hmm, anything else?”
The wife hesitates, “whenever we’re making love, he NEVER lets me be on top! Once in a while, I’d like to be in control!”
“Ah,” says the counselor, “I think I’ll talk to your husband now.”
So the wife goes out of the room and the husband enters. The counselor tells him, “Your wife says that you’ve been driving her crazy. She might even leave you.”
The husband looks shocked, “WHAT? For 20 years I’ve been loving and considerate and I’ve always given her what she wants! What could be the problem?”
The counselor explains, “She says that you’ve got these habits that are driving her crazy. First, you’re always acting strange in public–looking at the floor and never going near anyone else.”
The husband looks concerned, “Oh, you don’t understand! It’s one of the few things my father told me to do in his deathbed and I swore I’d obey everything he said.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that I should never step on anyone’s toes!”
The counselor looks amused, “Actually, that means that you should not do anything that would cause anyone else to get angry.”
The husband looks sheepish, “Oh. Okay.”
The counselor continues, “And you keep picking your nose in public.”
“Well, its another thing my father specifically commanded me to do! He told me to always keep my nose clean.”
The counselor looks faint, “That means that you should not indulge in any criminal activity.”
“Oh,” says the husband looking very stupid.
“And finally, she says that you never allow her to be on top during your lovemaking.”
“This,” says the husband seriously, “is the last thing my father commanded me to do on his deathbed and it’s the most important thing.”
“What did he say?”
The husband replies, “In his dying breath, he said, ‘Don’t screw up!’”
A nosey neighbour remonstrated with the woman in the adjoining apartment.
“Mrs Smith, do you think it is right that a seventeen year old boy spends
three hours every night in your apartment?”
Mrs Smith replied. “Its a platonic friendship. Its play for him and a
tonic for me.”
There was a woman who absolutely loved the music of Billy Joel and Paul McCartney. She loved them so much she decided to have their images tattooed on her body. She went to a tattoo parlor and told the artist she wanted Billy Joel tattooed on her left thigh, and Paul McCartney tattooed on her right thigh.
When the job was completed, the artist gave her a mirror to inspect his work. She exclaimed that neither of the images looked like what they were supposed to be. The artist said let’s get another opinion.
He went out to the street and asked a drunk to come in and assist with a little problem. There sat the woman, with her legs apart, and the artist asked the drunk what he saw. He replied, “Well…that looks like Billy Joel on her left, Paul McCartney on her right…and that looks like Willie Nelson in the middle.”
In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake. He was a hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular, “Gosh! If I go down three inches I will feel the mist from the water and I will be refreshed.”
There was a fish in the water thinking, “Gosh! If that fly goes down three inches I can eat him.”
There was a bear on the shore thinking, “Gosh! If that fly goes down three inches… that fish will jump for the fly… and I will eat him.”
It also happened that a hunter was further up the bank of the lake, preparing to eat a cheese sandwich. “Gosh!” he thought, “If that fly goes down three inches… and that fish leaps for it… that bear will expose himself and grab for the fish. I’ll shoot the bear and then have a proper lunch.”
You probably think this is enough activity for one bank of a lake, but I can tell you there was more.
A wee mouse by the hunter’s foot was thinking, “Gosh! If that fly goes down three inches… and that fish jumps for that fly …and that bear grabs for that fish… the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his cheese sandwich.”
A cat, lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunchtime, “Gosh… if that fly goes down three inches…and that fish jumps for that fly… and that bear grabs for that fish …and that hunter shoots that bear… and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich… then I can have mouse for lunch.”
The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the cooling mist of the water… The fish swallows the fly… The bear grabs the fish.. The hunter shoots the bear… The mouse grabs the cheese sandwich… The cat jumps for the mouse… The mouse ducks…The cat falls into the water and drowns.
The moral of the story is: Whenever a fly goes down three inches… Somewhere there’s a pussy in trouble.