There was an Indian whose given name was
"Onestone", so named because he had only one
testicle. He hated that name and asked everyone to not
to call him Onestone! After years and years of
torment, Onestone finally cracked and said, "If anyone
calls me Onestone again I will kill them!

The word got around and nobody called him that any
more. Then one day a young girl named Blue Bird forgot
and said, "Good morning, Onestone..." He jumped up,
grabbed her, and took her deep into the forest where
he made love to her all day and all night. He made
love to her all the next day, until Blue died from
exhaustion.

The word got around that Onestone meant serious
business. Years went by and no one dared call him by
his given name until a woman named Yellow Bird
returned to the village after being away for many
years. Yellow Bird, who was Blue Bird's cousin, was
overjoyed when she saw Onestone. She hugged him and
Said, "Good to see you, Onestone..."

Onestone grabbed her, took her deep into the forest,
then he made love to her all day and all night. He
made love to her all the next day and all the next
night...but, Yellow Bird wouldn't die!!!

What is the moral of this story?

Come on take a guess! Think about it..

Okay, okay, .......

The moral is You can't kill two birds with one stone

M16:

Thank you for not making an old man lie awake trying to figure it out and wondering if Alzheimers had caught up with him!

I'm with you Gerald. Of course one in the hand is wirth two in the bush, or something.

Gee! I thought the moral was "One underhung can't waste two in the bush!"