Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of the mirror complaining to my husband that my breasts are too small. Instead of characteristically telling me it's not so, he uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion. "If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between them for a few seconds."





Willing to try anything, I fetch a piece of toilet paper and stand in front of the mirror, rubbing it between my breasts. "How long will this take?" I asked.



"They will grow larger over a period of years," my husband replies.



I stopped. "Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?'"



Without missing a beat he says, "Worked for your butt, didn't it?"



He's still alive, and with a great deal of therapy, he may even walk again, although he will probably continue to take his meals through a straw.

Remind me of the toilet paper we had at work,

went by the name of JOHN WAYNE Toilet paper.

It Was rough

it was tough

and it did not take any shit from indians

quote:

Originally posted by THEANIMAL:
Remind me of the toilet paper we had at work,

went by the name of JOHN WAYNE Toilet paper.

It Was rough

it was tough

and it did not take any shit from indians

We called it Rambo paper for much the same reasons ,rough ,tough and dos'nt take shit from any arsehole.

Classy humour!

Hey Edmond, what would Americans call a French toilet?


A window.