A WOMAN’S POEM:
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who’s not a creep,
One who’s handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who’ll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he’s rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won’t be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand.
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other.
And relish visits with my mother.
A MAN’S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-muted gymnast, nymphomaniac with
big t**s who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn’t rhyme and I don’t give a s**t.
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Last month a world-wide survey was conducted by the UN.
The only question asked was...........
“Would you please give your honest opinion about
solutions to the food shortage in the rest of
the world?”
The survey was a huge failure because of the following:
In South America they didn’t know what “please” meant.
In Eastern Europe they didn’t know what “honest” meant.
In China they didn’t know what “opinion” meant.
In the Middle East they didn’t know what “solution” meant.
In Africa they didn’t know what “food” meant.
In Western Europe they didn’t know what “shortage” meant.
In Australia they didn’t know what “the rest of the world” meant.
And Finally......(drum roll)
In the U.S. they hung up because they can’t understand an Indian accent.
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