An oldie, but goodie for the weekend.


Last Saturday morning, Posthole got up early, dressed quietly, made
his lunch, grabbed the dog, slipped quietly out to the garage
to hook the boat up to the truck, and proceeded to back
out into a torrential down pour. The wind was blowing 50 mph!

He pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered
that the weather would be bad throughout the day.

He went back into the house, quietly undressed, and
slipped back into bed. There he cuddled up to Julie's
back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, 'The weather
out there is terrible!'

Julie replied, 'Can you believe my stupid husband
is out fishing in that crap?'

He still doesn't know to this day if she was joking or not, but he HAS stopped fishing.