It’s a Monday, and it could be a Very Good Day, depending what goes down, so I don’t want to write right now. I don’t want to tamper with my headspace. It’s sunny, blissful, beautiful out today, and I’m about to head out into the world on my Eurotrash scooter, and plan to find my way to a beach or forest to do some photography. I’m going to try and find Love in images, I think. That would be a fun challenge. (Challenges rock. Ever assign yourself them at the start of your day? Try it!)
But I’d like you to have a smile on your face today, like the one I already have. So, without ado, one of my all-time favourite dirty jokes. I don’t know if it’s really the joke I love, so much as it is the woman I heard it from, and how incongruous the two seemed together. This is why I talk to strangers as often as I can. You just never know. :)
Now, I was working in a photo lab back in the day with my colleague Cathy. It was a slow Friday night and we had put out a tray of cookies for customers, for the hell of it. A little old 84-year-old lady stopped in, had some cookies, and began talking to us.
She looked at us both, scrutinizing us. “Do you girls like dirty jokes?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you like sex?” Then she shook her head. “Well, of course you do. We all do.”
Well, anytime you have an 84-year-old lady with plastic glasses and her hair in a bun, leaning heavily on a burled cane, offering to share a filthy joke with you, you accept the offer. Here’s the joke she told.
In marriage, there are three stages of sex.
The first is called House Sex. This is when you first marry, and you can’t get enough of each other. You have sex all the time, everywhere you can, all over the house. Thus, house sex.
The second stage is called Room Sex. This is when you’ve been together for a couple years and things have slowed down. You still enjoy each other’s company, but you tend to stick to the bedroom and have sex only in bed.
The third stage takes place after about seven years, and it’s called Hall Sex. What it is, is every time you pass each other in the hall, you mutter “Fuck you,” and you’re done with it.
Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse go to court to get a divorce. The judge checks out the paper, frowns as he’s looking them over, glances up over his reading glasses and peers at Mickey Mouse.
“Mickey, look, I’m sorry, I want to help you out. I watched you as a kid, but really, I can’t grant you a divorce on the grounds that Minnie’s insane. I mean, “for sicker or for poorer…” You know? You made a vow, Mickey.”
“Oh, sir, I never said she was insane,” says Mickey. “I said she was fucking Goofy.”
The rest of my jokes involve priests or sex toys. Well, here’s hoping I have the day I’m wanting to have. Hope you do, too.