After his check-up, the doctor calls her into his office and says, "Your husband is suffering from a very serious disease, which, combined with stress, will kill him in a few months. What you have to do is, each morning, fix him a nice breakfast, and be pleasant. Make him a nice lunch to take to work, and for dinner, make meals for him you know he'll enjoy. Don't give him too much to do around the house, especially after he's had a hard day. And don't burden him with too many of your problems, because that'll only increase his stress. And most importantly, make love to him a couple of times a week, and try to give him oral sex once a month or so. If you can do this for the next ten months, I think your husband could regain his health completely."
On the way home, the husband says, "What did the doctor say?"
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."