(**PG 13 today!)
Mr. Goldberg wakes up in the hospital,
bandaged from head to foot. The doctor
comes in and says,
'Ah, I see you've regained consciousness.
Now, you probably won't remember, but you
were in a pileup on the freeway. You're
going to be okay, you'll walk
again and everything, but.....
something happened. I'm trying to break
this gently... but the fact is... your
penis was chopped off in the
wreck and we were unable to find it.'
Goldberg groans, but the doctor goes on,
'You've got $9000 in insurance compensation
coming to you, and we have the technology to
build you a new penis that will work as well
as your old one did...maybe even better!
But the thing is, it doesn't come
cheap. It's $10,00.00 per inch.'
Goldberg perks up at this!! 'So,'
the doctor says, 'It's for you to decide
how many inches you want.
But it's something you'd better discuss
with your wife. I mean, if you had a five
inch one before,
and you decide to go for nine inches, she
might be a bit put out. But if you had a
nine inch one before, and you decide only
to invest in five inches this time, she
might be disappointed. So
it's important that she plays
a role in helping you
make the decision.'
He agrees to talk with his wife.
The doctor comes
back the next day and
says, 'So, have you spoken with your
'I have,' says Mr. Goldberg.
'And has she helped you in making the
'Yes, she has,' he says.
'And what is it?' asks the doctor.
'We're getting granite countertops.'
I'm scraping the bottom of the email
barrel here, folks. There's not much
left in the files, and I'm too tired
from working to write much
(or even think). By Saturday,I'll be
dumb and dumber, since I'm already
exhausted and it's only
I love working, but when it comes in
like this, I suddenly remember that my age
won't allow me to work like I did when I was
in my 40's. I don't know why that is always
such a surprise to me...