A Woman's Poem

He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.

I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.

I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue..
Then I turned around and smacked the shit out of him...
Like his mother used to do.

Thanks, Shelly

Furball

Thanks, Martha

Be Good To Your Nurse

A motorcycle patrolman was rushed to the hospital with an inflamed appendix. The doctors operated and advised him that all was well.

However, the patrolman kept feeling something pulling at the hairs in his crotch. Worried that it might be a second surgery and the doctors hadn't told him about it, he finally got enough energy to pull his hospital gown up enough so he could look at what was making him so uncomfortable.
Taped firmly across his pubic hair were three wide strips of adhesive tape, the kind that doesn't come off easily.

Written in large black letters was the sentence: 'Get well soon...from the nurse in the Jeep you pulled over last week.'


Thanks, Mom