A family is sitting around the supper table. The son asks his
father, "Dad
how many kinds of B_reast are there?
The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there are three kinds
of b_reasts. In her twenties, a women's b_reasts are like melons,
round and >firm. In her thirties to forties, they are like
pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After fifty, they are like
onions."
"Onions?"
"Yes, see them and they make you cry." This infuriated the wife and
daughter so the daughter said, "Mum, how many kinds of willies are
there?"
The mother, surprised, smiles and looks at her daughter and
answers,
"Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In a man's twenties,
his
willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties and
forties, it is
a birch, flexible but reliable. After his fifties, it is like a
Christmas tree."
"A Christmas tree?"
"Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration
only"
