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Friday, June 20, 2008


The sick Mexican husband was laying on his death bed. He had only hours to live when suddenly he smelled tamales. He dearly loved tamales more than anything else in the world, especially his wife Chita's tamales.

With every last bit of the energy left in his mind and body, the terminally ill husband pulled himself out of bed, across the floor, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Here, his wife was removing the fresh batch of tamales from the stove top.

As he reached for one of the freshly made tamales, his wife smacked him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon:
"Leave them alone, ¡stupido!...
They're for the funeral!"

We are about to enter the summer BBQ season soon.

Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity, as it's the only type of cooking a 'real' man will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.

When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:
(1) The woman buys the food.
(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.
(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - beer in hand.

Here comes the important part:

More routine....
(5) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
(6) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning.

He thanks her and asks if she will bring another glass of beer while he deals with the situation.

Important again:

More routine....
(8) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
(9) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

And most important of all:
(10) Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
(11) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed 'her night off.' And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women....

A nurse walks into a bank totally exhausted after a 20 hour shift.

Preparing to write a check, she pulls a rectal thermometer out of her purse and tries to write with it.

She looks at the flabbergasted teller and without missing a beat says,

"Well, that's great......... that's really great ........some asshole has my pen."

Ole is out on the farm plowing the back 40. Suddenly Ole needs to take a leak. He jumps off his tractor, drops his pants, and begins to relieve himself.

Poor Ole....he doesn't realize that he's peeing on a hornets nest buried in the field.

Suddenly Ole is surrounded by a swarm of angry, wet bee's and he gets stung multiple times right on his tallywacker.

By golly, this really hurts, so Ole runs like the dickens to the farm house and calls the doctor.

Ole says, "Hey Doc, I was just out back plowin ya know, when I had to pee and by golly I peed right on a hornets nest, and they stung me right on my junk, and she burns something terrible".

"What can ya do to help me there Doc"?

The Doctor replies, "Well now Ole, if I was you, I'd stick my tallywacker in a bowl of warm buttermilk".

"It should relieve the swelling and stop the burning". That's what I'd do.

So by now, Ole's unit is swollen up to un-believable proportions (we should all be so lucky). So he pours himself a bowl of buttermilk and lays his junk in the bowl.

Enter Lena.

Lena looks at Ole with his member laying in the buttermilk, she pauses for a moment, looks Ole squarely in the eye and says to him.

"Ya know there Ole, we've been married for nearly 50 years now, and I never could figure out how you re-loaded that thing.

"Let's all be careful out there!"