Virginia Gun Owners Forum - VGOF

Classic Urban Legend

A fellow from Michigan buys himself a brand-new $30,000 Jeep Grand Cherokee for Christmas. He goes down to his favorite bar and celebrates by tossing down a few too many brews with his buddies. In one of those male-bonding rituals, five of them decide to take his new vehicle for a test drive on a duck hunting expedition. They load up the Jeep with the dog, the guns, the decoys, and the beer, and head out to a nearby lake.

Now, it's the dead of winter, and of course the lake is frozen, so they need to make a hole in the ice to create a natural landing area for the ducks and decoys. It is common practice in Michigan to drive your vehicle out onto the frozen lake, and it is also common (if slightly illegal) to make a hole in the ice using dynamite. Our fellows have nothing to worry about on that score, because one member of the party works for a construction team, and happens to have brought some dynamite along. The stick has a short 20-second fuse.

The group is ready for some action. They're all set up. Their shotguns are loaded with duck pellets, and they have beer, warm clothes and a hunting dog. Still chugging down a seemingly bottomless supply of six-packs, the group considers how to safely dynamite a hole through the ice. One of these rocket scientists points out that the dynamite should explode at a location far from where they are standing. Another notes the risk of slipping on the ice when running away from a burning fuse. So they eventually settle on a plan to light the fuse and throw the dynamite out onto the ice.

There is a bit of contention over who has the best throwing arm, and eventually the owner of the Jeep wins that honor. Once that question is settled, he walks about 20 feet further out onto the ice and holds the stick of dynamite at the ready while one of his companions lights the fuse with a Zippo. As soon as he hears the fuse sizzle, he hurls it across the ice at a great velocity and runs in the other direction.

Unfortunately, a member of another species spots his master's arm motions and comes to an instinctive decision. Remember a couple of paragraphs back when I mentioned the vehicle, the beer, the guns and the dog? Yes, the dog: a trained Black Labrador, born and bred for retrieving, especially things thrown by his owner. As soon as the stick leaves his hand, the dog sprints across the ice, hell-bent on wrapping his jaws around the enticing stick-shaped object.

Five frantic fellows immediately begin hollering at the dog, trying to get him to stop chasing the dynamite. Their cries fall on deaf ears. Before you know it, the retriever is headed back to his owner, proudly carrying the stick of dynamite with the burning 20-second fuse. The group continues to yell and wave their arms while the happy dog trots towards them. In a desperate act, its master grabs his shotgun and fires at his own dog.

The gun is loaded with duck shot, and confuses the dog more than it hurts him. Bewildered, he continues towards his master, who shoots at man's best friend again. Finally comprehending that his owner has become insane, the dog runs for cover with his tail between his legs. And the nearest cover is right under the brand-new Jeep Grand Cherokee.

Boom! The dog and the Jeep are blown to bits, and sink to the bottom of the lake, leaving a large ice hole in their wake. The stranded men stand staring at the water with stupid looks on their faces, and the owner of the Jeep is left to explain the misadventure to his insurance company. Needless to say, they determined that sinking a vehicle in a lake by illegal use of explosives is not covered under their policy, and the owner is still making $400 monthly payments on his brand-new Jeep at the bottom of the lake.

>
> Mike was attending his 4X4 club's monthly meeting and had just told them
> he couldn't make the camping trip scheduled for the next day because his
> wife wouldn't let him go.
>
> After listening to the jeers and other derisive remarks from his fellow 4X4
> friends Mike left to go back home to his wife.
>
> When Mike's friends started arriving to set up camp the next day, who should
> be there but Mike sitting up in front of his truck, tent up, fishing rod in
> hand, camp oven roast stewing away in a hot bed of coals.
>
>
> "How did ya talk your wife into letting you go Mike?"
>
> "I didn't have to" was Mike's reply. "When I left the meeting I went home
> and slumped down in my chair with a beer to drown my sorrows. Then my wife
> snuck up behind me and covered my eyes and said, 'Surprise'!"
>
> When I peeled her hands back she was standing there in a beautiful see -
> through negligee, was sipping on a large Martini and said, "Carry me into
> the bedroom, tie me to the bed and you can do whatever you want."
>
>
> So here I am!

"We know he broke some part of the Federal Aviation Act, and as soon as we decide which part it is, a charge will be filed."

Arrest him now. we'll find something to charge him with later.

BOHICA

INTERNATIONAL RULES OF MANHOOD

1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

2: It is ok for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances:
a. When a heroic dog dies to save its master.
b. The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.
c. After wrecking your boss' car.
d. One hour, 12 minutes, 37 seconds into "The Crying Game".
e. When she is using her teeth.

3: Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.

4: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a buddy out of jail within 12 hours.

5: If you've known a dude for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.

6: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a friends fridge forbidden.
However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

7: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man.
In fact, even remembering your buddies birthday is strictly optional.

8: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

9: When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

10: You may fart in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.

11: It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless model and only when it's free.

12: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another dude in the nuts.

13: Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.

14: Friends don't let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.

15: If a man's fly is down, that's his problem, you didn't see anything.

16: Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.

17: A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight.

18: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that's just greedy.

19: If you compliment another guy on his six-pack, you'd better be talking about his choice of beer.

20: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she's withholding sex pending your response.

21: Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while he is lifting weights:
a. Yeah, Baby, Push it!
b. C'mon, give me one more! Harder!
c. Another set and we can hit the showers!

22: Never talk to a man in a toilet unless you are on equal footing:
i.e. Both urinating, both waiting in line, etc. For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.

23: Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her. Keep a stopwatch by the phone. Hang up if necessary.

24: The morning after you and a girl who was formerly "just a friend" have carnal drunken monkey sex, the fact that you're feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail her again before the discussion about what a big mistake it was occurs.

25: It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.

26: Thou shalt not buy a car in the colors of brown, pink, lime green, orange or sky blue.

27: The girl who replies to the question "What do you want for Christmas?" with "If you loved me, you'd know what I want!" gets an Xbox. End of story.

28: There is no reason for guys to watch Ice Skating or Men's Gymnastics. Ever.

We've all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definition of each is listed below.

GUTS - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask, "Are you still cleaning or are you flying somewhere?"

BALLS - is coming home late after a night out with the blokes smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the arse and having the balls to say, "You're next!"

Dear Tech Support:

Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 . I soon noticed
that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a
lot of space and valuable resources.

In addition, Wife 1.0 installed itself into all other programs and now
monitors all other system activity. Applications such as Poker Night
10.3 , Football 5.0, Hunting and Fishing 7.5, and Racing 3.6.

I can't seem to keep Wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to
run my favorite applications. I'm thinking about going back to
Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall doesn't work on Wife 1.0. Please
help!

Thanks,
Troubled User.....

_____________________________________
REPLY
Dear Troubled User:

This is a very common problem that men complain about.

Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0 , thinking that it
is just a Utilities and Entertainment program. Wife 1.0 is an
OPERATING SYSTEM and is designed by its Creator to run EVERYTHING. It
is also impossible to delete Wife 1.0 and to return to Girlfriend 7.0.
It is impossible to uninstall, or purge the program files from the
system once installed.

You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is designed to
not allow this. Look in your Wife 1.0 manual under Warnings-Alimony/Child Support.

I recommend that you keep Wife 1.0 and work on improving the
situation. I suggest installing the background application "Yes dear"
to alleviate software augmentation.

The best course of action is to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE!
Because ultimately you will have to give the APOLOGIZE command before
the system will return to normal anyway.

Wife 1.0 is a great program, but it tends to be very high maintenance.
Wife 1.0 comes with several support programs, such as Clean and
Sweep 3.0 , Cook It 1.5 and Do Bills 4.2.

However, be very careful how you use these programs. Improper use will
cause the system to launch the program Nag-Nag 9.5 . Once this
happens, the only way to improve the performance of Wife 1.0 is to
purchase additional software. I recommend Flowers 2.1 and Diamonds 5.0

WARNING!!! DO NOT, under any circumstances, install Secretary With
Short Skirt 3.3 . This application is not supported by Wife 1.0 and
will cause irreversible damage to the operating system!

Best of luck,

Tech Support

Last autumn, a group of friends went deer hunting and decided to be paired off in two's for the day. That evening one of the hunters returned alone, staggering under the weight of an eight point buck.

"Where is Edward?" the other hunters asked.

Ed's hunting partner, Brian, replied, "Edward had a stroke of some kind. He's a couple of miles back up the trail."

The other hunters gasped and one guy asked, "You left Edward laying out there and carried the deer back?"

"It was a tough call," nodded the hunter. "But I figured that nobody would steal Edward."

Stun Gun (only a man would do this)

(Gals - you have got to read the whole thing if you can keep the tears
out of your eyes)

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary
submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked
my interest. The occasion was our 22nd Anniversary, and I was looking
for a little something "extra" for my wife.

I came across a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of
the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse
affect on the assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety
. . . WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device, and brought it home. I loaded two
triple-A batteries in the thing, and pushed the button.
Nothing! I was disappointed.

I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a
metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity
darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome!!! Unfortunately, I
have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her
microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it
couldn't be all THAT bad, with only two triple-A batteries, right?!!
There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting
little soul) while I was reading the directions, and thinking that I
really needed to try this thing out on a flesh-and-blood moving target.
I must admit, I thought about zapping Gracie, (for a fraction of a
second) and then thought better of it. She's such a sweet cat. But, if I
was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a
mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I
wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top, with my reading
glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one
hand, and taser in the other. The directions said that a one-second
burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was
supposed to cause muscle spasms, and a major loss of bodily control; a
three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the
ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds
would just be wasting the batteries.

All the while, I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5"
long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; (pretty cute really, and
loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, "NO
possible way!"

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best . .
. I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one
side as if to say, "Don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second
burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't POSSIBLY hurt all that
bad...

I decided to give myself a one-second burst, just for the heck of it. I
touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER
OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over, and
over, and over, and over again.

I vaguely recall waking up on my side, in the fetal position, with tears
in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to
be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position,
and tingling in my legs.

The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds Ihad never heard
before, licking my face, and undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it
again, do it again!"

Note: If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one
note of caution: there is NO SUCH THING as a "one-second burst", when
you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is
dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.
A three second burst would be considered conservative.
SON-OF-A-%#&**%# . . . that hurt!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at
that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up, and
surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of
the fireplace. How did they get up there??? My triceps, right thigh, and
both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up
with Novacain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I'm still looking for
my testicles. I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.

May you have a wonderful day

During WW II an American soldier had been on the front lines in Europe for three months, when he was finally given a week of R&R. He caught a supply boat to a supply base in the south of England, then caught a train to London. The train was extremely crowded and he could not find a seat.

He was dead on his feet and walked the length of the train looking for any place to sit down. Finally he found a compartment with seats facing each other; there was room for two people on each seat. On one side sat only a proper looking, older British lady, with a small dog sitting in the empty seat beside her. "Could I please sit in that seat?" he asked.

The lady was insulted. "You bloody Americans are so rude," she said. "Can't you see my dog is sitting there?"

He walked through the train once more and still could not find a seat. He found himself back at the same place. "Lady I love dogs. I have a couple at home, so I would be glad to hold your dog if I can sit down," he said.

The lady replied, "You Americans are not only rude you are arrogant."

He leaned against the wall for a time, but was so tired he finally said, "Lady, I've been on the front lines in Europe for three months with not a decent rest for all that time. Could I please sit there and hold your dog?"

The lady replied, "You Americans are not only rude and arrogant, you are also obnoxious." With that comment, the soldier calmly stepped in, picked up the dog, threw it out the window, and sat down. The lady was speechless.

An older, neatly dressed Englishman sitting across on the other seat spoke up. "Young man, I do not know if all you Americans fit the lady's description of you or not. But I do know that you Americans do a lot of things wrong. You drive on the wrong side of the road, you hold your fork with the wrong hand, and now you have just thrown the wrong bitch out of the window."

ABOUT MY WEEKEND

An older, white haired man walked into a jewelry
store one Friday evening with a beautiful young
gal at his side.

He told the jeweler he was looking for a special
ring for his girlfriend.

The jeweler looked through his stock and brought
out a $5,000 ring. The old man said, 'No, I'd
like to see something more special.'

At that statement, the jeweler went to his
Special stock and brought another ring over. 'Here's a
stunning ring at only $40,000' the jeweler said.
The young lady's eyes sparkled and her whole
Body trembled with excitement.

The old man seeing this said, 'We'll take it.'

The jeweler asked how payment would be made and
The old man stated, 'By check. I know you need to
Make sure my check is good, so I'll write it now and
You can call the bank Monday to verify the funds and
I'll pick the ring up Monday afternoon,' he
said.

Monday morning, the jeweler phoned the old man.
'There's no money in that account.'

'I know,' said the old man, 'But let me tell you
about my weekend!'

Never Choke in a restaurant in the South

Two hillbillies walk into a bar. While having a shot of whisky, they
talk about their moonshine operation.

Suddenly, a woman at a nearby table, who is eating a sandwich, begins
to cough. And, after a minute or so, it becomes apparent that she is
in real distress. One of the hillbillies looks at her and says, 'Kin
ya swallar?'

The woman shakes her head no.

Then he asks, 'Kin ya breathe?'

The woman begins to turn blue and shakes her head no.

The hillbilly walks over to the woman, lifts up her dress, yanks down
her drawers and quickly gives her right butt cheek a lick with his
tongue. The woman is so shocked that she has a violent spasm and the
obstruction flies out of her mouth. As she begins to breathe again,
the Hillbilly walks slowly back t o the bar.

His partner says, 'Ya know, I'd heerd of that there 'Hind Lick
Maneuver' but I ain't niver seed nobody do it!'

If you don't laugh out loud after you read this you are in a coma!

This is even funnier when you realize it's real! Next time you have a bad day at work think of this guy. Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs.

Below is an e-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station 103.2 on FM dial in Ft. Wayne , Indiana , who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest. Needless to say, she won.







Hi Sue, Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.



Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.



As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose.



Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.



Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened.



The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate.



When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive.



I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.



As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub in on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.



So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.



Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."



Now whenever you have had a bad day, ask yourself, Is this a jellyfish bad day? May you NEVER have a jellyfish bad day!!!!!

Ray & Bubba


Ray & Bubba (Oklahoma mechanical engineers) were standing at the base of a flagpole, looking up. A woman walked by and asked what they were doing. 'We're supposed to find the height of the flagpole,' said Bubba, 'but we don't have a ladder.'

The woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a few bolts, and laid the pole down.. Then she took a tape measure from her pocket, took a measurement, announced, 'Eighteen feet, six inches,' and walked away.

Ray shook his head and laughed. 'Ain't that just like a woman! We ask for the height and she gives us the length!'

Bubba and Ray are currently working for the government in Washington DC and helping to distribute the money from the "stimulus package".

Q: What's the difference between an epileptic oyster shucker and a prostitute with diarrhea?

A: One of them shucks between fits.

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered
her altitude and spotted a man in a boat below. She shouted at him,
"Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an
hour ago, but I don't know where I am."


The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, "You're in a hot
air balloon, approximately 30 feet above a ground elevations of 2,346
feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north
latitude and 100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude.


She rolled her eye and said, "You must be a Republican."


"I am," replied the man. "How did you know?"


"Well," answered the balloonist, "everything you told me is
technically correct. But I have no idea what to do with your
information, and I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help to
me."


The man smiled and responded, "You must be an Obama Democrat."


"I am," replied the balloonist. "How did you know?"


"Well," said the man, "You don't know where you are or where you
are going. You've risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot
air. You made a promise you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me
to solve your problems. You're in exactly the same position you were in
before we met, but somehow, now it's my fault."

Barack Obama was visiting a primary school and he visited one of the classes.

They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings. The teacher asked the president if he would like to lead the discussion of the word 'tragedy.'

So our illustrious president asked the class for an example of a 'tragedy.'

One little boy stood up and offered: "If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a tragedy."

"No," said Obama, "that would be an accident."

A little girl raised her hand: "If a school bus carrying 50 children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy."

"I'm afraid not," explained Obama. "That's what we would call great loss."

The room went silent. No other children volunteered. Obama searched the room.

"Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?"

Finally at the back of the room, Little Johnny raised his hand. In a quiet voice he said:

"If the plane carrying you and Mrs. Obama was struck by a 'friendly fire' missile and blown to smithereens that would be a tragedy."

"Fantastic!" exclaimed Obama. "That's right. And can you tell me why that would be tragedy?"

"Well," says the boy, "It has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss...and it probably wouldn't be an accident

LOOOOOL ^^^^^^^^+1

I love little Johnny jokes.

Air Force One Crashes

Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken the Secret Service mobilized and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hulk left smouldering in a tree line that bordered a farm. Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk but could find no remains of the crew or the President's staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was ploughing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to surround the man's tractor.

"Sir," the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath.

"Did you see this terrible accident happen?"

"Yep. Sure did." The man muttered unconcernedly.

"Do you realize that is the President of the United States airplane?"

"Yep."

"Were there any survivors?" the agent gasped.

"Nope. They's all kilt straight out." The farmer sighed cutting off his tractor motor. "I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning."

"The President of the United States is dead?" The agent gulped in disbelief.

"Well," the farmer sighed, obviously wanting to get back to his work. "He kept a-saying he wasn't... but you know what a liar he is".

The Mailman




One Monday morning a mailman is walking the neighborhood on his usual route. As he approaches one of the homes, he noticed both cars were in the driveway. His walk was cut short by Bob, the homeowner, coming out with a load of empty beer and liquor bottles.

"Wow Bob! Looks like you guys had one hell of a party last night." the mailman comments.

Bob, in obvious pain, replies "Actually we had it Saturday night. This is the first I've felt like moving since 4:00 AM Sunday. We had about fifteen couples from around the neighborhood over for Christmas cheer and it got a bit wild. Hell, we got so drunk around midnight that we played who am I?"

The mailman thinks a moment and says, "How do you play that?"

"Well, all the guys go in the bedroom and we come out one at a time with a sheet covering us and only our privates showing through a hole in the sheet. Then the women try to guess who it is."

The mailman laughs and says, "Damn, I'm sorry I missed that."

"Probably a good thing you did," Bob responds. "Your name came up four or five times.”

Yuk yuk yuk I love it...