THE MIRACLE OF TOILET PAPER
Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of the mirror complaining to my husband that my breasts are too small. Instead of characteristically telling me it's not so, he uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion. 'If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between them for a few seconds.'
Willing to try anything, I fetch a piece of toilet paper and stand in
front of the mirror, rubbing it between my breasts. 'How long will this take?' I asked. 'They will grow larger over a period of years,' my husband replies. I stopped. 'Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?'
Without missing a beat he says, 'Worked for your butt, didn't it?'
He's still alive, and with a great deal of therapy, he may even walk
again, although he will probably continue to take his meals through a straw.
Stupid, stupid man
Fresh from my shower, I stand in front of the mirror complaining to my husband that my breasts are too small. Instead of characteristically telling me it's not so, he uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion. 'If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between them for a few seconds.'
Willing to try anything, I fetch a piece of toilet paper and stand in
front of the mirror, rubbing it between my breasts. 'How long will this take?' I asked. 'They will grow larger over a period of years,' my husband replies. I stopped. 'Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?'
Without missing a beat he says, 'Worked for your butt, didn't it?'
He's still alive, and with a great deal of therapy, he may even walk
again, although he will probably continue to take his meals through a straw.
Stupid, stupid man
