join the 43T dirty minds club

One December day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She was a sorry sight – starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny, and hair all matted down. We felt sorry for her so we put her in a carrier and took her to the vet. We didn’t know what to call her so we named her ‘Pussycat.’

The vet decided to keep her for a day or so. He said he would let us know when we could come and get her.

My husband (the complainer) said, ‘OK, but don’t forget to wash her, she stinks.’ He reminded the vet that it was his WIFE (me) that wanted the dirty cat, not him.

My husband and my Vet don’t see eye to eye. The vet calls my husband ‘El-Cheap-O’, and my husband calls the vet ‘El-Charge-O’. They love to hate each other and constantly ‘snipe’ at one another, with my husband getting in the last word on this particular occasion.

The next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor, who is located in the same building, next door to the vet.

The MD’s waiting room and office were full of people waiting to see the doctor. A side door opened and the vet leaned in – he had obviously seen my husband arrive.

He looked straight at my husband and in a loud voice said, ‘Your wife’s pussy doesn’t stink any more. We washed and shaved it, and now she smells like a rose. Oh, and, by the way, I think she’s pregnant. God only knows who the father is!’ Then he closed the door.

Now THAT, my friends, is getting even!

On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning.
One woman, in particular, loses it. Screaming, she stands up in the front of the plane.
‘I’m too young to die,’ she wails.
Then she yells, ‘If I’m going to die, I want my last minutes on earth to be memorable! Is there anyone on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?’
For a moment there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril.
They all stare, eyes riveted, at this desperate woman in the front of the plane
Then a cowboy from Alberta stands up in the rear of the plane.He is handsome, well built, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time.
No one moves. He removes his shirt.
Muscles ripple across his chest.
She gasps. He whispers . . .
‘Iron this. Then get me a beer.’

Jane and Arlene are outside their nursing home, having a drink and a smoke,
when it starts to rain. Jane pulls out a condom, cuts off the end, puts it over
her cigarette, and continues smoking.

Arlene: What in the hell is that?
Jane: A condom. This way my cigarette doesn’t get wet.
Arlene: Where did you get it?
Jane: You can get them at any drugstore.
The next day, Arlene hobbles herself into the local drugstore and announces to
the pharmacist that she wants a box of condoms.
The pharmacist, obviously embarrassed, looks at her kind of strangely (she is
after all, over 80 years of age), but very delicately asks what brand of condom
she prefers.
‘Doesn’t matter Sonny, as long as it fits on a Camel.’
The pharmacist fainted.

You don’t have to be a mother to enjoy this one..

Brian invited his mother over for dinner. During the course of the meal,
Brian’s mother couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Brian’s roommate,
Jennifer, was.

Brian’s Mom had long been suspicious of the platonic relationship between Brian and Jennifer, and this had only made her more
curious.

Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Brian and Jennifer than met the eye.

Reading his mom’s thoughts, Brian volunteered, ‘I know what you must be
thinking, but I assure you Jennifer and I are just roommates.’

About a week later, Jennifer came to Brian saying, ‘Ever since your mother came to dinner, I’ve been unable to find the beautiful silver gravy ladle. You don’t suppose she took it, do you?’

Brian said, ‘Well, I doubt it, but I’ll send her an e-mail just to be sure. So he sat down and wrote:

Dear Mom,

I’m not saying that you ‘did’ take the gravy ladle from the house, I’m not
saying that you ‘did not’ take the gravy ladle. But the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.

Love, Brian

Several days later, Brian received an email back from his mother that read:

Dear Son,

I’m not saying that you ‘do’ sleep with Jennifer, I’m not saying that you
‘do not’ sleep with Jennifer. But the fact remains that if Jennifer is sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.

Love, Mom

LESSON OF THE DAY – NEVER LIE TO YOUR MOTHER

One day, when a seamstress was sewing while sitting close to a river, her thimble fell into the river. When she cried out, the Lord appeared and asked, ‘My dear child, why are you crying?’ The seamstress replied that her thimble had fallen into the water and that she needed it to help her husband in making a living for their family. The Lord dipped His hand into the water and pulled up a golden thimble set with sapphires.

‘Is this your thimble?’ the Lord asked The seamstress replied, ‘No.’

The Lord again dipped into the river. He held out a golden thimble studded with rubies.

‘Is this your thimble?’ the Lord asked. Again, the seamstress replied, ‘No.’ The Lord reached down again and came up with a leather thimble.

‘Is this your thimble ?’ the Lord asked. The seamstress replied, ‘Yes.’ The Lord was pleased with the woman’s honesty and gave her all three thimbles to keep, and the seamstress went home happy.

Some years later, the seamstress was walking with her husband along the riverbank, and her husband fell into the river and disappeared under the water. When she cried out, the Lord again appeared and asked her, ‘Why are you crying?’ ‘Oh Lord, my husband has fallen into the river!’

The Lord went down into the water and came up with George Clooney. ‘Is this your husband?’ the Lord asked.

‘Yes,’ cried the seamstress. The Lord was furious. ‘You lied! That is an untruth!’ The seamstress replied, ‘Oh, forgive me, my Lord. It is a misunderstanding. You see, if I had said ‘no’ to George Clooney, you would have come up with Brad Pitt.

Then if I said ‘no’ to him, you would have come up with my husband. Had I then said ‘yes,’ you would have given me all three. Lord, I’m not in the best of health and would not be able to take care of all three husbands, so THAT’S why I said ‘yes’ to George Clooney.

And so the Lord let her keep him.

The moral of this story is: Whenever a woman lies, it’s for a good and honorable reason, and in the best interest of others. That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it

A YOUNG CHINESE COUPLE GETS MARRIED. SHE’S A VIRGIN. TRUTH BE TOLD, HE IS A VIRGIN TOO,BUT SHE DOESN’T KNOW THAT! ON THEIR WEDDING NIGHT SHE COWERS NAKED UNDER THE SHEETS AS HER HUSBAND UNRESSES IN THE DARKNESS. HE CLIMBS INTO BED NEXT TO HER & TRIES TO BE RE-ASURING. MY DARLING, HE WHISPERS, ‘I KNOW DISS YOUR FIRSS TIME & YOU BERRY FRIGHTEN. I PROMISE YOU, I GIVE YOU ANTHING YOU WANT. YOU JUSS ASK…..SO….WATCHA WANT?? HE TRIES TO SOUND EXPERIENCED & WORDLY, WHICH HE HOPES WILL IMPRESS HER. A THOUGHTFUL SILENCE FOLLOWS & HE WAITS PATIENTLY ( AND EAGERLY) FOR HER REQUEST. SHE EVENTUALLY, SHYLY WHISPERS BACK, ‘I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING I HEARD ABOUT FROM OTHER GIRLS…..NUMBA 69.’ MORE THOUGHTFUL SILENCE, THIS TIME FROM HIM. EVENTUALLY, IN A PUZZLED TONE HE ASKS HER….’YOU WANT…..GARLIC CHICKEN WITH STEAMED VEGETABLES??’

An elderly man in North Carolina had owned a large farm for several
years. He had a large pond in the back, fixed up really nice, along
with some picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple and peach trees.
The pond was properly shaped and fixed up for swimming when it was built.
One evening the old gentleman decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn’t

been there for a while, and look it over. He grabbed a five gallon bucket to bring back some fruit.

As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and

laughing with glee.

When he came closer, he realized it was a bunch of young women

skinny-dipping in his pond. He made the women aware of his presence

and they all went to the deep end to shield themselves.

One of the women shouted to him, ‘We’re not coming out until you leave!’

The old man frowned and replied, “I didn’t come down here to watch

you ladies swim naked or make you get out of the pond naked.“

Holding the bucket up he said, “I’m here to feed the alligator.“

Moral of the story: JJ may move slow but he can still think fast.

I received this in an email and couldn’t stop laughing ….. so I thought I’d pass it along.

Subject: Hair Removal

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal – The Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now….the wax.

Read on….......

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours:

Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.

So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.

No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I’m not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out.

(YA THINK)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees.

(Cold wax, yeah…right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!

OK, so it wasn’t the best feeling, but it wasn’t too bad. I can do this!

Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself….RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I’m blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!.....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I’ve only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out…must stay conscious…must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe…OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy – a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!

There’s no hair on it.

Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip…it’s not! I touch.

I am touching wax.

I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake…remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet?

I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.

SEALED SHUT!!!!

MY BUTT IS SEALED SHUT!

SEALED SHUT!!!!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself “Please don’t let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!”

What can I do to melt the wax?

Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I’ll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???

WRONG!!!!!!!**

I get in the tub – the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment – I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub…in scalding hot water.

Which, by the way, doesn’t melt cold wax.

So, now I’m stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It’s a very good conversation starter…...

“So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!”

There is a slight pause. She doesn’t know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, “Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?”

She’s laughing out loud by now…I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.

YEAH!!!!! Right!!

I should be the joke of someone else’s night.

While we go through various solutions. I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor

Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace….the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.

What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and…

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. Its sooo painful, but I really don’t care.

IT WORKS!! It works!! I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair….

THE HAIR IS STILL THERE…....ALL OF IT!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I’m numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

The Mother Superior calls all the nuns together for a discussion. “We have discovered a case of gonnerheia here in the convent.”
“Good”, said Sister Beatrice. “I was getting tired of the chardonnay”.

At 85 years of age, Roger married Jenny, a lovely 25 year old. Since her new husband is so old, Jenny decides that after their wedding she and Roger should have separate bedrooms, because she is concerned that her new but aged husband may overexert himself if they spend the entire night together.

After the wedding festivities Jenny prepares herself for bed and the expected knock’ on the door. Sure enough the knock comes, the door opens and there is Roger, her 85 year old groom, ready for action. They unite as one.

All goes well, Roger takes leave of his bride, and she prepares to go to sleep. After a few minutes, Jenny hears another knock on her bedroom door, and it’s Roger. Again he is ready for more ‘action’. Somewhat surprised, Jenny consents for more coupling. When the
newlyweds are done, Roger kisses his bride, bids her a fond good night and leaves.

She is set to go to sleep again, but, aha you guessed it – Roger Is back again, rapping on the door, and is as fresh as a 25-year-old, ready for more ‘action’. And, once more they enjoy each other. But as Roger gets set to leave again, his young bride says to him, ‘I am thoroughly impressed that at your age you can perform so well and so often. I have been with guys less than a third of your age who were only good once. You are truly a great lover, Roger.’

Roger, somewhat embarrassed, turns to Jenny and says: ‘You mean I was here already?’