Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, grabbed the dog, and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the boat to the truck, and proceeded to back out into a Torrential downpour.
The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day.
I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."
My loving wife of 10 years replied, "Can you believe my idiot husband Is out fishing in that?"
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."