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Red Roses
Two women are sitting in a cafe and talking. One woman says, “Sh!t, this evening my husband brought me red roses.” “Why?” the other woman asks. “I’d be glad if my husband did that for me.”
“No, no, you don’t understand,” the other says. “Every time he brings me red roses, I have to spread my legs.”
“Why’s that?” the other asks. “Don’t you have a vase?”
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