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A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, 'Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?
The father, surprised, answers, 'Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her 20s, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm.
In her 30s to 40s, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After 50, they are like onions'.
'Onions?' asked the son.
'Yes, you see them and they make you cry.'
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said, 'Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?'
The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, 'Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable.
After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree'.
'A Christmas tree?' asked the daughter.
'Yes - dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration.'
The father, surprised, answers, 'Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her 20s, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm.
In her 30s to 40s, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After 50, they are like onions'.
'Onions?' asked the son.
'Yes, you see them and they make you cry.'
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said, 'Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?'
The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, 'Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable.
After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree'.
'A Christmas tree?' asked the daughter.
'Yes - dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration.'
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