A family is at the dinner table. The son asks
his father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs
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?" asks the boy.
"Yes," said the father, "you
see them and they make you cry." This
infuriated his wife and daughter so the
daughter said, "Mom, 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 willie is like an oak tree,
mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties,
it is a birch, flexible but still reliable.
After his fifties, it is like an old Christmas
tree." "A Christmas tree?"
"Yes, dead from the root up and the balls
are for decoration only."