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Monday, May 5, 2008
Old Farmers
Two old farmers had hauled a truck load of squirming hogs eighty miles from their west Kansas farm to the nearest market. The old truck had overheated twice; the hogs were keeping the truck rocking, even when it was stopped, and the hot summer Kansas wind was drying them out fast.
Within three miles of the market, they passed a tavern and pulled in for a couple of draft beers. The place was dimly lit and air conditioned.
After about 20 minutes, one says to the other, "It's going to be really hard to get up, but I reckon we ought to."
About that time, a quite obvious prostitute walks up to the bar, works her way in between them, and says, "You guys look about ready for action. I'll do anything you want me to do for $60."
The old farmer pulls three $20 bills out of his pocket and replies, "Here you go, Ma'am; git that load of hawgs to the Maple Street auction barn."
Within three miles of the market, they passed a tavern and pulled in for a couple of draft beers. The place was dimly lit and air conditioned.
After about 20 minutes, one says to the other, "It's going to be really hard to get up, but I reckon we ought to."
About that time, a quite obvious prostitute walks up to the bar, works her way in between them, and says, "You guys look about ready for action. I'll do anything you want me to do for $60."
The old farmer pulls three $20 bills out of his pocket and replies, "Here you go, Ma'am; git that load of hawgs to the Maple Street auction barn."
Friday, May 2, 2008
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