Norwegian Exercise

[Svenskaflicka]

OK, I'm not Norwegian, but this is a follow-up on my Swedish Exercise, and Norwegian Exercise sounded more interesting than Swedish Exercise II - The Sequal.
(Actually, that sounds like the title of a porn flick...)

Anywho, here's the exercise:

Write a joke with atleast 300 words. Embroider an original joke a bit.

 

[pop_54]

Ummm OK

OK a pops silly joke. 718 words, hope that's alright.


A married couple are having problems, the guy can't raise a bone-on, he is in fact a bit miserable with everything and can't even raise a laugh.

The woman is getting a bit desparate for sex, she's always been a very hot number and has had to go without for many months now, she's on the verge of shopping around for an away game with some other guy but doesn't want to really, it's just that she needs a good seeing to.

They've tried everything, porno films, sexy underwear, lotions, the lot.
Still Percy refuses to rise.

The woman in desparation goes to her local doctor.
"You've got to help me doctor, my old man can't get an erection, I'm desparate for sex". She says. Explaining that she'll soon need to look elsewhere if things don't improve.

"Hmm, no problem Mrs Jones, new on the market, 'Viagra super strength' can't fail my dear, you give him one of these he'll be hard in minutes and rampant as hell for the night". The doctor prescribed.

"No good doctor, you know Jack has a tablet phobia, he just can't take tablets, he's tried many times, he almost chokes trying to swallow them". The woman replies.

"Hmm, no problem Mrs Jones, just crush one up and sprinkle it on his dinner late one evening, be warned though just the one at a time or he'll go sex mad for days". Says the doctor.

Mrs Jones takes the Viagra and leaves, thanking the doctor profusely.

Later that day she prepares her husbands evening meal, she decides that maybe he'll smell a rat and become suspicious if he sees her sprinkling something strange on his meal so she crushes up a tablet and carefully lays the powder on the top of the salt in the dispenser.
Hmm, maybe he'll not get enough this way she thinks and crushes up another, and another.
There that should ensure he gets a full tablet's worth on the food she thinks.

Hubby arrives home to find his wife semi clothed looking very cheerful for a change, and may I add very sexy with her discrete make-up and loose clothing.

"Wasting your time, you know I can't get a rock-on". He comments, as he sits at the table.

"Never mind dear, one day maybe". Says the woman as she slides his dinner in front of him, his favourite meal as well.

The woman grabs the salt cellar and begins to sprinkle the contents over the food for her husband.
"Here careful love, not too much salt, I love it but it's bad for me". The man says.

Oh that should do anyway, thinks the woman.

The doctor had warned her that the new Viagra was very potent and fast acting, she knew her hubby would be taking more than one tablet worth with his food so she makes tracks for the bedroom to prepare for her first session in many a month.

She lays seductively on the bed, opening her top to reveal her rather well endowed chest, she lifts her loose flimsy skirt to reveal her well filled and now damp panties.
Ohhhh, yes, at last, at last I'm getting it and he'll be f--king rampant, she thinks.

There's a crash and a bang from downstairs, a startled shout, more crashing and the sound of heavy hurried footsteps on the stairs, thump, thump, thump, up the stairs he comes.

My God that was fast acting, he's mad for me, my God this is going to be lovely, Ohhh, thinks the woman, yes come on, yes come on, as her husband approaches the bedroom door, she is so hot for this.

In to the bedroom hurries her startled and flustered looking husband, "YES DO IT". Cries the woman loudly in sheer high arousal, "DO IT NOW".

"What the hell was that you spinkled on my dinner woman". Says the man in a flustered tone.

"Just something to make you and me happy darling". Cries the woman.

"Well as I was about to cut into it, one of the sausages jumped off the table, rolled back it's skin and it's shagging the cat in the corner of the sitting room, and I don't think the cat's very bloody happy". Replies her stunned husband.



pops....................

 

[MathGirl]

You asked for it, Swede!

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago on a hot day in central Mexico, a group of men were sitting in a small town cantina; drinking cerveza, tequila, and pulque.

Suddenly a small man rushed in through the swinging doors shouting, "Everybody run for your lives, Hector Rodriguez is coming! He is the most murderous man in all of Mexico, and he will kill everyone!"

Everyone in the cantina, bartender included, immediately ran outside, mounted their horses, and fled in a cloud of dust. Everone, that is, except an average looking man who merely sat on his bar stool, sipping his cerveza.

The small man said to him, "Hurry, senor, Hector Rodriguez is coming, and he will kill you. Hector Rodriguez kills everyone!"

The man on the stool calmly set his glass on the bar, turned to the other man and said, "No, I'm not afraid of Hector Rodriguez. He will not harm me."

"Carumba, senor! How can you say that. Hector Rodriguez kills everyone, just for sport. Why would he not harm you?"

The other man took a sip and said, "Let me tell you a little story, amigo."

"Some time back, I was riding my horse alone in the desert when a naked man holding a beeeg gun jumped out from behind a cactus in front of me. He said, 'I am Hector Rodriguez. Get off that horse.'"

"Por dio, senor," said the small man. "What did you do?"

The cerveza drinker replied, "What could I do? He had the beeeg gun. I got off my horse. Then Hector Rodriguez pointed that beeeg gun at me and said, 'strip.'"

"So what did you do, senor?"

"What could I do? He had the beeg gun. I took off my clothes. Then Hector Rodriguez said, 'Squat and shit!'"

"Madre dio, senor," exclaimed the little man. "What did you do?"

"What could I do? He had the beeg gun.. I squatted. I shat."

"And then what happened, senor?"

"Hector Rodriguez said, 'Sit. Eat!'"

"Arrrrghh, senor. What did you do?"

After another sip he said, "What could I do? He had the beeg gun.." I sat. I ........ ate. It was not pleasant. Then Hector Rodriguez put on my clothes, got on my horse, and rode away."

The small man said, "You sat, you ...... ate ..... then Hector Rodriguez rode away. Is that all? Is that the story?"

"Oh, no, the story does not end there. My horse was very well trained. I gave a loud whistle, my horse returned to me, and he bucked off Hector Rodriguez into a pile at my feet. I picked up the beeeg gun."

"Caramba, senor. What a story! What did you do then?"

"I told Hector Rodriguez to take off my clothing."

"And what did Hector Rodriguez do?" asked the small man.

"What could he do? I had the beeg gun. He removed the clothes."

The small man grimaced and said, "I don't think I want to hear it, senor, but what happened next?"

"I pointed the beeeg gun at Hector Rodriguez, then I said, 'Squat. Shit!'"

"Iyyiyiyiyi, what did he do."

"What could he do? I had the beeg gun.. He squatted. He shat."

The small man muttered, "I think I know what's next, but what happened, senor?"

"I said, 'Sit. Eat.'"

"Oh, no, senor. What did Hector Rodriguez do?"

"What could he do? I had the beeg gun.. Hector Rodriguez sat. Hector Rodriguez ... ate. Then I got dressed, mounted my horse, and rode away. I have not seen him since."

Startled, the small man stammered, "Senor, I am no fool You tell me that Hector Rodriguez will not harm you. Then you tell a long, meaningless story about Hector Rodriguez, a beeeg gun, eating ........ yuck. By the Virgin, what does all that have to do with how Hector Rodriguez will treat you?"

The man finished his cerveza, smiled gently, and said, "As I told you, amigo. Hector Rodriguez would not harm me. You see, I have had lunch with Hector Rodriguez."

 

[dr_mabeuse]

The Golden Screw

Stop me if you've heard this before...

This baby was born perfect in every way, except that he had a golden screw where his navel should be. His parents didn't know what to make of it, the doctors didn't know what to make of it. It was a mystery.

The little boy grew up, and all the other kids teased him without mercy. He became a lonely man, determined to make something of himself.

He went to college, started a business. The business thrived, the man worked hard, days and nights. He became fabulously wealthy, travelled all over the world, gave millions to charity, but he knew no peace inside because of that golden screw.

He married, raised a family, was a wonderful father, but still he obsessed about that golden screw in his navel. He sent his kids to college, provided a hugs mansion for his wife. But every night he prayed that he may know why he was cursed with that golden screw. Alas, his prayers went unanswered.

His obsession finally drove his wife crazy. She left him, and his children wouldn't talk to him anymore. The starin was too much for him. His business fell apart. He lost all his fortune, all his possessions. He was ruined, destitute. He took to thebottle, became an alcoholic, a sad spectacle. He began riding the freight trains from town to town, nothing more than a bum.

One day his alcoholic haze cleared enough for him to realize that he was back in the town of his birth. Thinking about his life, it was all too much for him; he decided to kill himself and get iot over with. He tied a big brick around his neck and went to the bridge over the river, stood on the rail. As he was about to jump, a voicer suddenly came from the clouds, saying "Your prayers have been heard. Climb to the top of the mountain and at midnight all will be made clear to you."

With renewed hops the man climbed down from the bridge, untied the brick and started climbing the mountain.

It was hard going: steep and rugged. Brambles scratched him and sharp rocks cut his hands and tore through his shoes, but still he staggered on. Night came and he could barely see where he was going, but still he struggled, upward, upward.

Finally he reached the top of the mountain. He collapsed, totally spent, hoping he was in time, and apparently he was, because a beam of light shot down through the clouds and he heard the singing of a heavenly choir. The beam of light illuminated a glass dome right in front of him, and inside the dome was a red velvet pillow, and sitting on the pillow was a golden screwdriver.

Eyes wide, he staggered to his feet. He removed the glass dome, he picked up the golden screwdriver, he inserted it into the screw in his navel. He turned it: the screw turned. He turned it and turned it and the screw came out!

He couldn't believe it! The screw came out!

He turned around to walk away and his ass fell off.

 

[MathGirl]

Gd Grf

Stop me if you've heard this before...

Oh, my God, DrM. That was even worse than mine.
MG

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Yes, but you see, my story was...true!

---dr.M.

 

[MathGirl]

Luncheon al fresco

Yes, but you see, my story was...true!

---dr.M.

So was mine. It really happened to me. I was the horse.
MG

Ps. We're all invited to Hector's place for lunch tomorrow.

 

[Just-Legal]

*laughs*

More! More!

 

[SlaveMasterUK]

Once upon a time, in a great Kingdom that once existed called England, there were two Knights of the Realm, the Black Knight and the Yellow Knight. Both Knights worked alongside one another and served the King well.

But the Black Knight harboured a deep-rooted jealousy of the Yellow Knight, as the King favoured him. No matter how hard the Black Knight worked, he always felt that the King rewarded the Yellow Knight far better. The Yellow Knight knew nothing of this jealousy, and had always wondered why his colleague was so unwilling to be a close friend as well as an ally.

One afternoon, feeling particularly bitter after watching the King reward the Yellow Knight with yet more gold coins, the Black Knight hatched a plan to remove the Yellow Knight from office, permanently. He sat around his Black Round Table, scheming quietly to himself as he flicked through the channels on his television, his mind far from the flickering images before him. His mind was filled with visions of blackmail, assassination, and murder. There were so many ways in which he could remove the Yellow Knight, if only he could get inside his castle.

The Black Knight used his strategic abilities, practised over years of battling for the King, and began to list the Yellow Knight’s weaknesses. Eventually he had a plan: The Black Knight knew that the Yellow Knight was a friendly chap at heart, and never turned away a visitor. So he hastily knocked together a remote-control bomb, hopped onto his black moped, and sped away to the Yellow Knight’s castle.

The Black Knight arrived just as the Yellow Knight was about to prepare an afternoon meal. A swift rap on the yellow castle door brought the Yellow Knight running down the hall, exclaiming “Visitors, visitors!” in a jolly voice. He gaily opened the door and beamed out, his surprise showing on his face when he saw the Black Knight standing before him.
“Greetings, Black Knight, what gives me the pleasure?” He asked cheerfully.
“Good afternoon friend, I was just passing by and thought I’d stop to say hello.” The Black Knight lied.
“Aah, well do come in!” The Yellow Knight replied, for he was fond of visitors. “I was just about to prepare some lunch. Make yourself at home in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

So it was that the Black Knight was inside the Yellow Knight’s indestructible castle walls, past his armed sentries, and sat at the Yellow Round Table in his very yellow living room. He heard the Yellow Knight bustling in the kitchen, and decided the time was right to plant his assassination device: a BOMB! He quickly tiptoed over to the flowerpot resting on the television set, scraped aside a little loose soil, pushed in the bomb and covered it over. Then he quickly dusted off his hands and tiptoed back to his seat, just as the Yellow Knight returned with a tray laden with meats and pickles and sauces of all variety (even raspberry jam!), fit only for Knights of the Realm.

And so they sat and ate, and talked as the hours past, of battles and revolts and troublesome Lords, until eventually the Black Knight made his apologies and headed for the door. He eagerly fired up his black moped and sped away to his black castle.

The afternoon shadows were beginning to grow as the Black Knight stepped eagerly into his armoury, hurriedly picking up the remote detonator and issuing one final curse, then he clenched his eyes and braced himself before pressing the little red button. After a few seconds of silence, he gingerly opened one eye, and peered out of the window at the Yellow Knight’s castle, standing proud on the distant horizon. He cursed out loud at what must have been a faulty bomb, and threw the detonator down in disgust.

Quickly the Black Knight picked up another bomb, stuffed it into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket, and ran out to his black moped, blazing a trail towards the Yellow Knight’s castle.

The Black Knight arrived just as the Yellow Knight was about to prepare supper. A swift rap on the yellow castle door brought the Yellow Knight running down the hall, exclaiming “Visitors, visitors!” in a jolly voice. He gaily opened the door and beamed out, his surprise showing on his face when he saw the Black Knight standing before him.
“Greetings, Black Knight, what gives me the pleasure?” He asked cheerfully.
“Good evening friend, I was just passing by and thought I’d stop to say hello.” The Black Knight lied.
“Aah, well do come in!” The Yellow Knight replied, for he was fond of visitors. “I was just about to prepare some supper. Make yourself at home in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

So it was that the Black Knight was again inside the Yellow Knight’s indestructible castle walls, past his armed sentries, and sat at the Yellow Round Table in his very yellow living room. He heard the Yellow Knight bustling in the kitchen, and decided the time was right to plant his assassination device: the second BOMB! He quickly tiptoed over to the flowerpot resting on the television set, scraped aside a little loose soil, pushed in the bomb and covered it over. Then he quickly dusted off his hands and tiptoed back to his seat, just as the Yellow Knight returned with a tray laden with sandwiches of all variety (even raspberry jam!), fit only for Knights of the Realm.

And so they sat and ate, and talked as the hours past, of battles and revolts and troublesome Lords, until eventually the Black Knight made his apologies and headed for the door. “I must be getting back,” he said, “I have a lot to do in the morning.”
“No problem at all friend,” the Yellow Knight replied. “And I must be getting back to a rather good book.”
“Really? What’s that?” the Black Knight asked, turning around swiftly.
“Rhiana, by SlaveMasterUK. It really is a delightful tale. You’d really like it.”
“Well then, I must just give it a read. Good night to you, Good Knight!” And he eagerly fired up his black moped and sped away to his black castle.

The evening had given way to night as the Black Knight stepped eagerly into his armoury, hurriedly picking up the remote detonator and issuing one final curse, then he clenched his eyes and braced himself before pressing the little red button. After a few seconds of silence, he gingerly opened one eye, and peered out of the window at the Yellow Knight’s castle, standing proud on the distant dark horizon. He cursed out loud at what must have been a faulty bomb, and threw the detonator down in disgust.

The Black Knight decided that it was too late to return now with a fresh bomb, and besides he had still had to check the posts on Literotica; there was a good chance Svenskaflicka or WildSweetOne had left another exercise for him to complete. Or perhaps he would have some more feedback on his latest story, Princess in the Black Knight’s Dungeon.

The following morning, in the chill freshness of a new day, the Black Knight picked up another bomb, stuffed it into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket, and ran out into the cool morning air to his black moped, blazing a trail towards the Yellow Knight’s castle.

The Black Knight arrived just as the Yellow Knight was about to prepare breakfast. A swift rap on the yellow castle door brought the Yellow Knight running down the hall, exclaiming “Visitors, visitors!” in a jolly voice. He gaily opened the door and beamed out, his surprise showing on his face when he saw the Black Knight standing before him.
“Greetings, Black Knight, what gives me the pleasure?” He asked cheerfully.
“Good morning friend, I was just passing by and thought I’d stop to say hello.” The Black Knight lied.
“Aah, well do come in!” The Yellow Knight replied, for he was fond of visitors. “I was just about to prepare some breakfast. Make yourself at home in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

So it was that the Black Knight was inside the Yellow Knight’s indestructible castle walls, past his armed sentries, and sat at the Yellow Round Table in his very yellow living room. He heard the Yellow Knight bustling in the kitchen, and decided the time was right to plant his assassination device: a BOMB! He quickly tiptoed over to the flowerpot resting on the television set, scraped aside a little loose soil, and was about to push in the bomb when the Yellow Knight returned. “Good Knight, do you prefer raspberry jam on your toast, or… Good Knight, what on Earth is THAT!?”
“It’s… er… it’s a…” The Black Knight stammered, aware that he was holding a black sphere with the word ‘BOMB’ printed on its side in fat white letters.
“All this time, you’ve been trying to kill me!” The Yellow Knight exclaimed, deeply hurt. “For this treachery you will pay! ON GUARD!”

But the Black Knight ran, dashing quickly past the armed sentries in a blur of black leather and long greasy hair. He deftly jumped onto his moped and kicked the starter furiously until it spluttered into life and pootled away down the lane.

The Black Knight risked a glance over his shoulder, and quickly wished he hadn’t for the Yellow Knight was right behind and gaining slightly on his yellow moped. For hour after hour, then day after day they raced, until eventually the Yellow Knight caught up with the Black Knight and knocked him to the ground. A fight ensued, but the Black Knight had been winded by the fall and was no match for the furious Yellow Knight. Eventually he was beaten into submission and taken away by the Royal Guard for detainment at His Majesty’s leisure.

The moral to this story is that yellow mopeds go faster than black ones.

 

[Svenskaflicka]

Oh, my god, what have I started?

I feel like Dr Frankenstein.

 

[pop_54]

Hello again

To be read in an English west country accent if possible, if not anyway you want, I'm easy sweeties.......


Two farmers boys chatting.

"My pig's gone cross eyed". Say's Bert

"Oh Ahhr, mine did that". Said Tom.

"Can't see where she's going, keeps bumping into things". Says Bert.

"Oh Ahhr, mine did that, I cured her though". Said Tom.

"Owed yu do that?". Asks Bert.

"With a piece of rubber pipe". Replies Tom.

"Ohhh, how?". Says Bert.

Tom explains that if you stick the end of a length of pipe up the pigs arse and blow hard into the other end the pigs eyes pop back into place.

"Load of balls". Says Bert.

"No, it's true". Says Tom, "get a bit of pipe and I'll show you". He continues.

Off goes Bert and returns with said pig and two feet of plastic hose pipe.

"Right stick one end up her arse". Tom says.

With much pig squealing and struggling Bert manages to get the pipe inserted in said orifice to a satisfactory depth, the pig surprisingly calms down and appears to have developed a smile on it's snout as Tom takes the end of the tube in his mouth and begins to blow hard.

Bert leaning forward at the front of the animal watches her eyes closely to see if they go back into normal place, after a minute or two of red faced hard blowing, nothing has happened.

"They gone straight yet?". Tom puffs out.

"No". Replies Bert.

"Bloody hell". Says Tom taking the end of the tube in his mouth again.

Another minute or two of hard puffing and panting, Tom is now very red in the face and visibly weak from his exertion.

"They gone straight yet?" Tom pants out.

"No". Replies Bert.

"Bloody hell". Replies Tom.

"Here come out of it, let me have a go you weak lunged bugger". Bert says taking the end of the tube in his hand, as Tom stands back, Bert snatches the tube out of the pigs arse turns it round and sticks the other end back in, he's just about to put his mouth to the end of it.

"Here, what the bloody hell you do that for?". Tom asks.



"Well you've had the other end in your bloody mouth aint you". Bert replies.


pops.......................

 

[MathGirl]

It this doesn't meet the 300 word min, don't read it..

A man was leading his bull down a dirt road. The bull had an appointment with the neighbor's cow. Suddenly the bull laid down by the side of the road and wouldn't move. The man pulled on the rope, but the bull stayed put. The man yelled at the bull, but it would not move. The man kicked the animal, but the bull still refused to move.

About this time, a friend drove up in his truck and asked what the trouble was. The bull's owner explained that the bull had laid down and refused to go any further. The second man pulled the rope, yelled, and kicked, but he had no more luck in getting the bull to move than the owner.

After considerable smoking, spitting, and cursing, the men decided to take the truck into town to see if the local veternarian could help them get the bull to move. They drove to the vet's office and explained about the recalcitrant bull.

The vet said, "I've heard of problems like this before. Take these two red capsules. Lift the bull's tail, and shove one of these capsules up his ass about a foot. I'll guarantee that, within sixty seconds, that bull will be up and moving at top speed."

The bull's owner paid the vet, thanked him, and headed out the door. Then he stopped and turned back to the veternarian. "Say, doc, you gave me two of these big red capsules. You told me to shove one of them up my bull's ass to get him moving. What am I supposed to do with the second capsule?"

The vet smiled and said, "You do want to catch that bull, don't you?"

 

[pop_54]

Nice one MG, load of bull but nice one

OK you asked for it.

Little boy walks in on mummy in her bedroom, mummy is sitting doing her hair in just her bra and panties.
There's no embarrassment from either, but the child notices something he hadn't spotted before, mummy is getting very fat, in fact she has a huge lump in her belly.

"Mummy", says the child.

"Yes darling", mummy replies.

"You're ever so fat now, look at that big lump in your belly", oh the innocence of childhood, they don't care what they say.

"Oh darling, that's a baby, I'm having another baby", mum replies with a chuckle.

"But where did it come from mummy", asks the little lad.

The woman thinking this is getting complicated decides to pass the buck to daddy.

"Oh daddy gave it to me darling, he'll tell you about it", the woman says.

The child says no more and leaves the room, downstairs out into the garden and confronts daddy.

"Daddy".

"Yes darling", the father replies.

"Did you give mummy a baby".

The father is a bit shocked, but replies, "Well yes darling I did".

"Oh, well she's eaten it".


luv pops..............................

 

[MathGirl]

@$#%$&^%*^(&)*

Pops: Booooooooooooooooooo

 

[Svenskaflicka]

Cute one, pops!

 

[pop_54]

Re: @$#%$&^%*^(&)*

Pops: Booooooooooooooooooo

 

[MathGirl]

Re: Re: @$#%$&^%*^(&)*

You're wearing lipstick now, Pops?

 

[Svenskaflicka]

I think he's inspired from the discussion about bi-males on that other thread.

 

[pop_54]

Re: Re: Re: @$#%$&^%*^(&)*

You're wearing lipstick now, Pops?

I'll wear anything you want love, wink

 

[TheEarl]

A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

Did it not hit the word limit? I'll try again.

A man is stranded in the middle of a desert after his plane crashed. Let’s call him Bob. He has no water and no food. After wandering around for a few days, he suddenly sees something off in the distance. It’s a small market, made up of just three stalls. The man stares at it, not sure whether it’s a mirage or not.

“That’s it! I’m saved,” he declares as he realises that it’s real. He runs towards the market and staggers over to the first stall.

“Water, give me water,” he gasps to the man at the stall.

The vendor replies, “Sorry, all we sell here is jelly.”

Bob runs to the next stall. “Water, please give me water.”

The vendor replies, “Sorry, we don’t sell water. I’ve only got sponge cake.”

Bob then runs over to the third and final stall. “Water, I need water.”

The third vendor replies, “We don’t have any water. All we have is custard.”

Bob can’t believe it. He absolutely flips his lid, chucks a mental, throws a tantrum and tosses a paddy. In fact he does a lot of things to bring up the word count. “I don’t believe it. There are three market stalls. In the middle of the desert. None of you have any water and you’re all selling strange stuff like custard, jelly and sponge cake. What the hell is going on?”

The first vendor smiles at him and says, “Yeah, I know. It’s a trifle bazaar.”


Read the last line out loud. It might be funnier.

The Earl

 

[Svenskaflicka]

Very good, Earl!
I like plays with words.

 

[MathGirl]

$%&^$&^%*

Very good, Earl!
I like plays with words.

Earl, you should be ashamed of yourself. Bad Boy!

MG

Ps. We don't do trifle in America, so not many people are gonna get that one. Lucky them!

 

[Svenskaflicka]

I suppose you'd have preferred a play with numbers, D?

 

[pop_54]

OK nice one Earl

Joke time again, corny one this time. Again to be read in a west country accent.

Picture the setting, a very small English village where marriage to strangers is rare, almost frowned on in fact, where young men wait excitedly for their mothers to give birth to a girl child so they may have a wife one day.
Where academic brilliance is judged as the person who can string together a sentence.

A village lad is walking along the side of the road, a car pulls up beside him, a big posh Jaguar, very expensive looking.

The window of the car slides down and a familiar voice speaks from inside the car.

"Allo Arnie, want a lift".

The lad looks into the car, there to his surprise is his mate Bert behind the wheel.

"Allo Bert, what you got there then"

"A car Arnie"

"Ohhh, where'd you get it frum Bert"

"Well, you know that really posh rich woman who's moved in the old manor house".
Says Bert.

"Arrr". Says Arnie.

"Well she gived it to I". Says Bert.

"Ohhh, how come as that then". Says Arnie.

"Well I wus walkin through the village, an she comes up in this car and asks me if I wants to go for a ride, so I says OK then" Says Bert.

"Arrr". Says Arnie.

"She takes I to a field gateway, stops the car and starts gettin funny you know". Says Bert.

"Arrr". Says Arnie.

"Well she says come on big boy let's get out of the car and have some fun, then she makes me get out and lay down with her on the ground". Says Bert.

"Arrrr". Says Arnie.

"Then she starts touching me like, and kissing my neck and that, then she opens her blouse and shows me her titties". Says Bert.

"Arrrrrr". Says Arnie.

"Well then she takes my hand and makes me feel her titties, nice they were, then she starts pulling her skirt right up so I can see her knickers and stuff, I don't mind admitting it made my willy go stiff". Says Bert.

"Arrrrrrrrrrr". Says Arnie.

"Then, well you won't guess what, she slowly pulls her knickers right off of herself, I could see her fluffy muff and all". Says Bert.

"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrr". Says Arnie.

"Well then she says go on big boy take whatever you want from me". Says Bert.

"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr". Says Arnie.




"So I took the car". Says Bert.





Arnie thinks for a second or two, "I don't blame you Bert, the knickers would never have fitted you".



pops.....................................