Niste bancuri bune pentru a ne mai descreti fruntile. Eu cel putin am nevoie de asa ceva. O sa va relatez maine si de ce.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
One day Mike noticed that a new couple had moved into the house next door. He was also quick to notice that the woman liked to sunbathe in the backyard, usually in a skimpy bikini that showed off a magnificent pair of breasts. He made it a point to water and trim his lawn as much as possible, hoping for yet another look.
Finally, he could stand it no more. Walking to the front door of the new neighbor's house, he knocked and waited. The husband, a large, burly man, opened the door.
"Excuse me", Mike stammered, "but I couldn't help noticing how beautiful your wife is."
"Yeah? So?" his hulking neighbor replied.
"Well, in particular, I am really struck by how beautiful her breasts are. I would gladly pay you ten thousand dollars if I could kiss those breasts."
The burly gorilla is about to deck Mike when his wife appears and stops him. She pulls him inside and they discuss the offer for a few moments. Finally, they return and ask our friend to step inside.
"OK," the husband says gruffly, "for ten thousand dollars you can kiss my wife's tits."
At this the wife unbuttons her blouse, and the twin objects of desire hang free at last. Mike takes one in each hand, and proceeds to rub his face against them in total ecstasy. This goes on for several minutes, until the husband gets annoyed.
"Well, come on already, kiss 'em!" he growls.
"I can't," replies our awe-struck hero, still nuzzling away.
"Why not?" demands the husband, getting really angry now.
"I don't have ten thousand dollars."
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
A FARMER'S WILL
TO MY WIFE: My overdraft at the bank. Maybe she can explain it.
TO MY BANKER: My soul. He has the mortgage on it anyway.
TO MY NEIGHBOR: My clown suit. He'll need it if he continues to farm as he has in the past.
TO THE ASCS: My grain bin. I was planning to let them take it next year anyway.
TO THE FARM ADVISOR: 50 bushels of corn to see if he can hit the market. I never did.
TO THE JUNK MAN: All my machinery. He's had his eye on it for years.
TO MY UNDERTAKER: A special request. I want six implement and fertilizer dealers for my pallbearers. They're used to carrying me.
TO THE WEATHERMAN: Rain, sleet, and snow for the funeral please. No sense having good weather now.
TO THE GRAVEDIGGER: Don't bother. The hole I'm in should be big enough.
TO THE MONUMENT MAKER: For the epitaph: "Here lies a farmer who has now properly assumed all of his obligations. "
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