Three gals were sitting at a bar throwing back a few drinks and talking about their sex lives. The first woman said: "I call my husband the dentist. Nobody can drill like he does."
The second woman giggled and confessed: "I call my husband the miner because of his incredible shaft."
The third woman quietly sipped her whiskey until her friends said: "Say, what do you call your husband?" She frowned and said: "The postman." "Why the postman?" her friends asked.
"Because he always delivers late, and half the time it's in the wrong box."
A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked right up to the pharmacist, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "I would like to buy some cyanide." The pharmacist asked, "Why in the world do you need cyanide?" The lady replied, "I need it to poison my husband."
The pharmacists eyes got big and he exclaimed, "Lord have mercy! I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license! They'll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!" The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife.
The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, "Well now. That's different. You didn't tell me you had a prescription."
