A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his
father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobies are there?
The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there’s
three kinds of breasts.
In her twenties, a woman’s breasts are like melons, round and firm. In
her
thirties to forties, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After
fifty, they are like onions.
“Onions?” the son asks.
“Yes, you see them and they make you cry”
This infuriated his wife and daughter, so the ; ;daughter
said, “Mum, how many kinds of ‘willies’ are there?”
The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, “Well dear,
a man goes through three phases. In his twenties, his willy is like an
oak
tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties, it is a birch,
flexible
but reliable. After his fifties, it is like a Christmas tree.”
“A Christmas tree?” the daughter asks.
“Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only”.
