The Monday Morning Mirth

Tag: women

  • Female Crew

    As the airliner pushed back from the gate, the flight attendant gave the passengers the usual information regarding seat belts, etc.

    Finally, she said, "Now sit back and enjoy your trip while your captain, Judith Campbell, and crew take you safely to your destination."

    Ed sitting in the eighth row thought to himself, "Did I hear her right? Is the captain a woman?"

    When the attendants came by with the drink cart, he said, "Did I understand you right? Is the captain a woman?"

    Yes," said the attendant, "In fact, this entire crew is female."

    My God," said Ed, "I’d better have two scotch and sodas. I don’t know what to think of all those women up there in the cockpit."

    That’s another thing sir," said the attendant, "We no longer call it the cock pit.

    Now it’s the box office!

  • Ron and Julie

    Dear Editor,

    It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive and there’s nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

    My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Julie. When I took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for Julie to get a full-time job, both for the extra income and the health benefits that needed, because I had ceased to be the main bread-winner. Shortly after she started working, I noticed that she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home in the evening from the golf course at about the same time that she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says that she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don’t yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men’s Grill at the club, so eating out at night is not reasonable. I’m ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.

    She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now, it’s not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her a couple of times each evening that they won’t clean themselves. I know she appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed. I really think my experience as a teacher helps a lot. I feel that telling people what they ought to do is one of my motivational strong points…

    And speaking of bed, her age really shows up there. I go out and play golf all day, come in dead tired and, after a two-hour nap and a good meal, I’m ready, if you know what I mean. Age has made her so bad that she actually dozes off during lovemaking. But that’s okay, I’m not complaining. Her satisfaction in that area is so important to a sensitive guy like me and, if she enjoys sleeping during our little trysts, what the heck… Now that she is older, she does seem to get tired so much more quickly. >Our washer and dryer are in the basement. Sometimes she says that she just can’t make another trip down those steps. I don’t make a big issue of this; as long as she finishes up the laundry the next evening, I’m willing to overlook it.
    Not only that, but unless I need something ironed to wear to the Monday lodge meeting, or to Wednesday’s and Saturday’s poker club, or to Tuesday’s and Thursday’s bowling, I tell her kindly to wait until the next evening to do the ironing. This gives her a little more time to do some of those odds and ends, like shampooing the dog, vacuuming or dusting.

    If I have had a really good day on the golf course and it has been wet and muddy, my clubs are often in a mess, so I let her clean them. You know…..get the grit off the grips and apply a little light Brillo on the club faces at a casual pace. My golf bag is very heavy, so I lift it out of the trunk of the car for her. Women are delicate, have weak wrists and can’t lift heavy stuff as well as men. But I tell her that I don’t like to be wakened during my after-golf nap so, rather than bother me, she can put them back in the boot when she’s finished. I think that another symptom of ageing is complaining. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But boys, we take them "for better or worse", so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won’t have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn’t hurt her (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is another of my strong points. When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. Last Sunday, she had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawns. I tried not to make a scene. I’m a fair man. I told her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she was making one for herself, she might as well make one for me too and then take her break by my hammock. That way, she could talk with me until I fell asleep.

    I know that I probably look like a saint in the way that I support Julie.
    I’m not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult.

    Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your ageing wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

    Yours, Ron

    EDITOR’S NOTE: Ron died suddenly on Thursday, February 6. He was found with a Galloway extra-long, 50-inch Big Bertha Driver rammed up his posterior with only 2 inches of grip showing. His wife Julie was arrested, but the all-woman Grand Jury accepted her defence that he accidentally sat on it.
    She was released without charge on Friday, February 7.

  • Shipwrecked

    A fellow was shipwrecked with six lovely women who in a short time were fighting over his attentions. They held a meeting to resolve the problem and decided that each would have his services on a different day of the week, with Sundays off for him.

    In due time the guy was dragging himself through the week, looking forward to Sunday.

    As he lay an the beach one day he saw a dot floating on the sea which as it got closer turned out to be a man on a raft. With his last ounce of strength he swam out, pulled the raft ashore, gave the occupant CPR and as he came around said to him; "Oh man, am I ever glad to see you!

    "Goodness gracious, am I ever glad to see you too", said the raft rider in a swishy way.

    With a shrug of resignation the guy said… "Oh damn, there goes my Sundays!"

  • How to Wave a Towel

    An older Jewish man married a much younger woman. After several months, the young woman complained that she had never climaxed during sex and by birthright, all Jewish women are entitled to at least one orgasm during sex.

    So they went to see the rabbi.

    The rabbi tells them to get a young, strong, virile young man to wave a towel over them while they are having sex. This, the rabbi says, will cause the woman to climax, so the couple tries it. After several attempts, still no climax.

    They go back to the rabbi.

    The rabbi says for the bride to change partners and have the virile young man have sex with her and have the husband wave the towel. They try it that night and the young woman goes into wild, screaming ear-splitting climaxes, one after another.

    When it is over, the husband smugly looks down at the young man and says, "You see, schmuck, THAT’s how you wave a towel!"

  • The Husband Superstore

    Recently, a "Husband Superstore" opened, where women could go to choose a husband from among many men. It was laid out in five floors, with the men increasing in positive attitudes as you ascended.

    The only rule was, once you opened the door to any floor, you HAD to choose a man from that floor; if you went up a floor, you couldn’t go back down except to leave the place, never to return.

    A couple of girlfriends went to the superstore to find some husbands……….

    First floor, the door had a sign saying, "These men have jobs and love kids." The women read the sign and said, "Well, that’s better than not having a job or not loving kids, but I wonder what’s further up?" So up they went.

    Second floor, the sign read, "These men have high paying jobs, love kids and are extremely good looking."
    "Hmmmm," said the ladies, "But I wonder what’s further up?"

    Third floor, the sign read, "These men have high paying jobs, are extremely good looking, love kids and help with the housework."
    "WOW," said the women. "Very tempting." But there was another floor, so further up they went.

    Fourth floor, this door had a sign saying, "These men have high paying jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak."
    "Oh, mercy me," they cried, "Just think what must be awaiting us further on!
    So up to the fifth floor they went.

    Fifth floor. The sign on that door said, "This floor is empty and exists only to prove that women are impossible to please. The exit is to your left, we hope you fall down the stairs !!"

  • The Retrosexual Man

    Please allow me to vent. I have had it. I’ve taken all I can stand and I can’t stand no more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, Redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, metrosexual, non-sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual…

    Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your arse, burp, and yell "ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture Wars, the Retrosexual movement. "

    The Code:

    A Retrosexual man, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE.

    A Retrosexual DEALS with IT, be it a flat tyre, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT.

    A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself.

    A Retrosexual doesn’t worry about living to be 90. It’s not how long you live, but how well. If you’re 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you. If you are still having sex, you are a God.

    A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need deodorant and shaving gear – that’s it!!

    A Retrosexual does not dress like a homeboy with baggy pants that look like he’s shat himself, or with a gay chain from pocket to pocket. If wearing a hat, wear it correctly – not on the side like a faggot. Blokes and necklaces (unless you are an Australian fast bowler) are out!

    A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the "Dealing with IT" portion of The Code.

    A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title.

    A Retrosexual does not let neighbours screw up rooms in his house on national TV.

    A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women. Some is inevitable, but major reinvention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a handbag carrying little puss, and in the long run, she ain’t worth it.

    A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak BBQ accident, favourite sports team being moved to a different city, favourite dog expiring, etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn’t pay you enough attention. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you.

    A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey.

    A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie — and ONLY a Windsor knot.

    A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting. This does not include males who have had cosmetic surgery.

    A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can’t hammer a nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can — or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you are.

    A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear, guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT. Plus it’s just plain fun to fire one off in the direction of those people or things that just need a little "wakin’ up".

    Crying. There are very few reasons that a Retrosexual may cry, and none of them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas. Sports teams are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is swearing or throwing the remote control. Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part, or loss of major body part on your Holden ute.

    When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a pregnant woman, heck, any woman gets on, that retrosexual stands up and offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men still in their seats with a disgusted "you rude pricks" look on his face.

    A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged or in a serious healthy relationship – i.e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance and drinking piss with the boys.

    A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils.

    A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants. Wherever it lands is where he bloody well wanted it to land. Except on his ute–that would happen because of a "force of nature", and then the retrosexual man’s options are to Cry, or to DEAL with IT, or do both.

    A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any elderly person or person in military dress (except 2nd Lt’s) NOTE: The person in military dress may turn down the offer but the Retrosexual man will ALWAYS make the offer to them and thank them for serving their country.

    A Retrosexual man doesn’t need a contract — a handshake is good enough.

    A Retrosexual man doesn’t immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself. We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and we just DEAL WITH IT!

  • Facts About the 1500’s

    The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn’t just how you like it, think about how things used to be.

    Here are some facts about the 1500’s:

    Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odour. Hence, the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.

    Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children-last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water."

    Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the dogs, cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying "It’s raining cats and dogs."

    There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. That posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could really mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That’s how canopy beds came into existence.

    The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence, the saying "dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on the floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they kept adding more thresh until when you opened the door it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway. Hence the saying, a "thresh hold."

    In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes the stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence, the rhyme, "Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old."

    Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man "could bring home the bacon. "They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and "chew the fat."

    Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning and death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

    Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or "upper crust."

    Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock them out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence, the custom of holding a "wake."

    England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a "bone-house" and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they thought they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the "graveyard shift") to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be "saved by the bell" or was considered a "dead ringer." And that’s the truth…

    Now, whoever said that History was boring!

  • What Women Want

    Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighbouring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur’s youth and ideals. So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, if after a year, he still had no answer, he would be put to death.

    The question?….What do women really want? Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch’s proposition to have an answer by year’s end.

    He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the priests, the wise men and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer.

    Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have the answer.

    But the price would be high; as the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.

    The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first.

    The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur’s closest friend!

    Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewerage, made obscene noises, etc. He had never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life.

    He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden, but Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur.

    He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur’s life and the preservation of the Round Table.

    Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur’s question thus:

    What a woman really wants, she answered….is to be in charge of her own life.

    Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and that Arthur’s life would be spared.

    And so it was, the neighbouring monarch granted Arthur his freedom and Lancelot and the witch had a wonderful wedding.

    The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom. But, what a sight awaited him. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, lay before him on the bed. The astounded Lancelot asked what had happened.

    The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch, she would henceforth, be her horrible deformed self only half the time and the beautiful maiden the other half.

    Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day….or night?

    Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch? Or, would he prefer having a hideous witch during the day, but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous, intimate moments?

    What would YOU do?

    What Lancelot chose is below. BUT….make YOUR choice before you scroll down below. OKAY?

    Noble Lancelot, knowing the answer the witch gave Arthur to his question, said that he would allow HER to make the choice herself.

    Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life. Now….what is the moral to this story?

    The moral is….. If you don’t let a woman have her own way….things are going to get ugly.

  • Indian Headdresses

    While touring an Indian reservation filming a documentary, Barbara Walters was puzzled as to why the difference in the number of feathers in the headdresses.

    So, she asked a brave who only had one feather in his headdress and his reply was: "Only have one woman. One woman, one feather."

    Feeling the first fellow was only joking she asked another brave. This brave had two feathers in his headdress. And he replied: "Me have two women. Two women, two feathers."

    Still not convinced the feathers indicated number of sexual partners involved, she decided to interview the Chief.

    Now the Chief had a headdress full of feathers. Which, needless to say amused Ms. Walters. She asked the Chief, "Why do you have so many feathers in your headdress?"

    The Chief proudly pounded his chest and said "Me Chief, me sleep with em all. Big, small, fat and tall, me sleep with em all."

    Horrified, Ms. Walters shouted, "You ought to be hung."

    The Chief said: "You damn right, me hung. Big like buffalo and long like snake."

    Ms. Walters retorted, "You don’t have to be hostile."

    The Chief replied: "Hoss-style, dog-style, wolf-style, any style…me sleep with em all."

    With tears of frustration in her eyes, Ms. Walters cried, "Oh dear."

    The Chief responded : "No deer. Ass too high, run too fast!!”

  • Venus and Mars

    I never have quite figured out why the sexual urges of men and women differ so much. And I never have figured out the whole Mars & Venus thing.

    And, I never have figured out why men think with their head and women with their heart. And, I never yet have figured out how the sexual desire gene gets thrown into a state of turmoil, when it hears the words "I do."

    One evening last week, my wife and I were getting into bed. Well, the passion starts to heat up, and she eventually says, "I don’t feel like it, I just want you to hold me."

    I said, "WHAT?" So she says the words that I and every husband on the planet dreads. She explains that I must not be in tune with her emotional needs as a Woman. I’m thinking, "What was her first clue?" I finally realize that nothing is going to happen that night, so I went to sleep.

    The very next day we went shopping at a big unnamed department store.

    I walked around while she tried on three very expensive outfits. She couldn’t decide which one to take, so I told her to take all three of them.

    She then tells me that she wants matching shoes worth $200 each to which I say OK. And then we go to the Jeweller Dept. where she gets a set of diamond earrings. Let me tell you. She was so excited. She must have thought that I was one wave short of a shipwreck, but I don’t think she cared.

    I think she was testing me when she asked for a tennis bracelet because she doesn’t even play tennis. I think I threw her for a loop when I told her that it was OK. She was almost sexually excited from all of this and you should have seen her face when she said, "I’m ready to go, let’s go to the cash register."

    I could hardly contain myself when I blurted out, "No, honey. I don’t feel like buying all this stuff now." You should have seen her face … it went completely blank.

    I then said, "Really honey! I just want you to HOLD this stuff for a while." And just when she had this look like she was going to kill me, I added, "You must not be in tune with my financial needs as a Man."

    I figure that I should be having sex again sometime during Spring 2006.