I’m not the easiest guy in the world to get along with. So when our anniversary rolled around, I wanted my wife to know how much I appreciated her tolerating me for the past 20 years. I ordered flowers and told the florist to enclose a card that read, ‘Thanks for putting up with me so long.’
When my wife got the delivery, she called me at work.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” I said.
She read the card aloud as the florist had written it: “Thanks for putting up with me. So long.”
Cletus is passing by Billy Bob’s hay barn one day when, through a gap in the door, he sees Billy Bob doing a striptease in front of an old John Deere tractor.
Butt clenched, he performs a slow pirouette, and gently slides off the right strap of his overalls, followed by the left. He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease move, lets his overalls fall down to his hips, revealing a torn and frayed plaid shirt.
Then, grabbing both sides of his shirt, he rips it apart to reveal his stained T-shirt underneath. With a final flourish, he tears the T-shirt from his body, and hurls his baseball cap onto a pile of hay.
Having seen enough, Cletus rushes in and says, “What the world’re ya doing, Billy Bob?”
“Good grief, Cletus, ya scared the bejeebers out of me,” says an obviously embarrassed Billy Bob. “But me ‘n the wife been havin trouble lately in the bedroom d’partment, and the therapist suggested I do something sexy to a tractor.”
Studying our wedding photos, my six-year-old asked, “Did you marry Dad because he was good-looking?”
“Not really,” I replied.
“Did you marry him for his money?”
“Definitely not,” I laughed. “He didn’t have any.”
“So,” he said, “you just felt sorry for him?”