Guest: The Neighbor, Viagra, Taxes and Poof!

The long, dark winter days and especially the nights can be stressful and sometimes people break…

and send dark, but funny emails.

from Jan

A man received the following text from his neighbor:
“I am so sorry Harry. I’ve been riddled with guilt and I have to confess.
I have been helping myself to your wife, day and night when you’re not around. In fact, more than you.
I do not get it at home, but that’s no excuse. I can no longer live with the guilt and I hope you
will accept my sincerest apology with my promise that it won’t, ever happen again.”
The man, anguished and betrayed, went into his bedroom, grabbed his gun, and without a word,
shot his wife and killed her.
A few moments later, a second text came in from the neighbor:
Bloody autospell! I meant  “wifi,  not “wife” . .

From Helen:

A woman asks her husband at breakfast time,
“Would you like some bacon and eggs, a slice of toast, and maybe some grapefruit juice and coffee?”
He declines. “Thanks for asking, but, I’m not hungry right now.
“It’s this Viagra,” he says. “It’s really taken the edge off my appetite.”
At lunchtime, she asks him if he’d like something.
“How about a bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?”
He declines. “The Viagra,” he says, “really trashes my desire for food.”
Come dinner time, she asks if he wants anything to eat.
“Would you like a juicy rib eye steak and some scrumptious apple pie?
Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?”
He declines again. “No,” he says, “it’s got to be the Viagra. I’m still not hungry.”
“Well,” she says, “Would you mind letting me up? I’m starving.”

From Ann:

A Prostitute’s Tax Return…
A woman walks into a Kalgoorlie accountant’s office and tells him that she needs to file her taxes.
The accountant says, “Before we begin, I’ll need to ask you a few questions.”
He gets her name, address etc. And then asks, “What’s your occupation?”
“I’m a prostitute,” she says.
The accountant is somewhat taken aback and says, “Let’s try to re phrase that.”
The woman says, “OK, I’m a high-end call girl”. “No, that still won’t work. Try again.”
They both think for a minute; then the woman says, “I’m an elite poultry farmer.”
The accountant asks, “What does poultry farming have to do with being a prostitute?”
“Well, I raised a thousand cocks last year.”
“Poultry Farmer it is.”

From Gregory:

A 72-year-old man goes for a physical. All of his tests come back normal so the doctor says, “Harry, everything looks great. How are you doing mentally and emotionally? Are you at peace with God?”

Harry replies, “God and I are tight. He knows I have poor eyesight, so he’s fixed it when I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, poof!, the light goes on. When I’m done, poof!, the light goes off.”

“Wow, that’s incredible,” the doctor says.

A little later in the day, the doctor calls Harry’s wife. “Mrs. White,” he says, “Harry is doing fine but I had to call you because I’m in awe of his relationship with God. Is it true that he gets up during the night and poof! the light goes on in the bathroom, and when he’s done, poof! the light goes off?”

“OH GOOD GRIEF!” Mrs. white exclaims,  “He’s pissing in the fridge again!”

I fire back:

ringtones ch141227 your next

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About On the North River

Forty years toiled in the Tel-com industry, married for 36 years widowed at sixty-one. Tea Party supporter. Do like to kayak, cook, take photos, bike, watch old movies and read. 66 years old and have a new girlfriend!
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