Once upon a time, a girl asked a guy, “Will you marry me?” The guy said, “No,” and the girl lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing, had friends, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook and farted whenever she wanted.
The End.
(I wish I could take credit for this, but it was one of those annoying email forwards that are occasionally funny. And, BTW, it’s not ENTIRELY accurate. I’m married and I fart whenever I want. In fact, I fart more now than in my unmarried days because now I’m forced to defend myself.)
No related posts.