One Monday morning the postman was walking through the neighborhood
on his usual route, delivering the mail. As he approached one of the homes
he noticed that both cars were still in the driveway.

His wonder was cut short by Ron, the home owner, coming out with a load
of empty beer, wine and spirit bottles for the recycling bin.

"Wow Ron, looks like you guys had one hell of a party last night"
the Postman commented.

Ron, in obvious pain, replied "Actually we had it Saturday night. This is the first
time I have felt like moving since 4:00 o'clock Sunday morning. We had about
15 couples from around the neighborhood over for some weekend fun and it
got a bit wild. We all got so drunk around midnight that we started playing
WHO AM I?"

The Postman thought for a moment and said "How do you play WHO AM I?"

"Well, all the guys go in the bedroom and come out one at a time covered with
a sheet with only the 'family jewels' showing through a hole in the sheet.
Then the women try to guess who it is..."

The postman laughed and said "Sounds like fun, I'm sorry I missed it".

"Probably a good thing you did" Ron responded
"Your name came up 7 times".

The party’s host paid me a great compliment.

“You are a good-looking woman,” he said.
“Honest—I’ve had only one beer.”

My glow was only slightly dimmed when my husband
interjected, “Imagine how great she’ll look after two.”

And then the fight started.


*************************************


Every night, Harry goes out drinking.
And every night, his wife, Louise, yells at him.

One day, one of Louise’s friends suggests that she try
a different tack.

“Welcome him home with a kiss and some loving words,”
she says. “He might change his ways.”

That night, Harry stumbles back home as usual.
But instead of berating him, Louise helps him into an easy
chair, puts his feet up on the ottoman, removes his shoes,
and gently massages his neck.

“It’s late,” she whispers. “I think we should go upstairs
to bed now, don’t you?”

“Might as well,” says Harry.
“I’ll get in trouble if I go home.”

And then the fight started....


***************************************


A commercial boasted that its product could help people live
pain-free in their golden years.

“Am I in my golden years?” my wife, 63, asked.

“Not at all,” I assured her.
“But you are yellowing fast.”

And then the fight started.


***************************************



I returned home from my ninth business trip of the year
with a severe bout of jet lag–induced foot-in-mouth disease.

As we prepared to go to sleep that night, I wrapped my arms around my
better half, gave her a kiss, and announced,

“It’s good to be in my own bed, with my own wife!”

And then the fight started.....


***************************************


As I performed a simple medical procedure on my patient,
I warned her,

“After this, you can’t have sex for at least three days.”

“Did you hear that?” she asked her husband.
“No sex for three days.”

“I heard,” he said.
“But she was speaking to you.”


And then the fight started.