Joe has been having severe headaches for several years now and his wife finally convinced him to see a neurologist.
The doctor said, Joe, the good news is I can cure you headaches.
The bad news is that, it will require castration.
You have a very rare condition, which causes your testicles, to press on your spine, and the pressure creates one hell of a headache.
The only way to relieve the pressure is to remove the testicles.
Joe was shocked, and depressed.
He wondered if he had anything to live for.
He had no choice but to go under the knife.
When he left the hospital, he was without a headache for the first time in 20 years, but he felt like he was missing an important part of himself.
He walked down the street, he realized that he felt like a different person.
He could make a new beginning, and live a new life.
He saw a men's clothing store and thought, that's what I need . . . a new suit.
He entered the shop, and told the salesman, I'd like a new suit.
The elderly tailor eyed him briefly, and said, let's see . . size 44 long.
Joe laughed, that's right, how did you know?
Been in the business 60 years, the tailor said.
Joe tried on the suit.
It fit perfectly.
As Joe admired himself in the mirror,
the salesman asked, how about a new shirt?
Joe thought for a moment, and then said, sure.
The salesman eyed Joe, and said, let's see, 34 sleeves, and 16 1/2 neck.
Joe was surprised, that's right, how did you know?
Been in the business 60 years.
Joe tried on the shirt, and it fit perfectly.
He walked comfortably around the shop, and the salesman asked, how about some new underwear?
Joe thought for a moment and said, sure.
The salesman said, let's see . . . size 36.
Joe laughed, ah ha!! I got you, I've worn a size 34 since I was 18 years old.
The salesman shook his head, you can't wear a size 34. A size 34 would press your testicles up against the base of your spine and give you one hell of a headache.
New suit - $400
New shirt - $36
New underwear - $6Second Opinion... PRICELESS!!!
The Drug Problem in
The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question, ''Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?''
I replied: "I had a drug problem when I was young":
I was drug to church on Sunday morning.
I was drug to church for weddings and funerals.
I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults.
I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profane four-letter word.
I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and flower beds and cockleburs out of dad's fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood;
And, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins; and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, and think.
They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem,
Now I'm not pickin' on America here, this applies equally well in Australia and I would suspect most other countries as well.