One day, a little old lady walked into a sex
shop. The young clerk couldn't help notice her, first, because she reminded him of his
dear old grandmother, and second because she was twitching violently and trembling, even
more than his grandmother did. "Young
m-m-m-man?" she stammered to the clerk, "Do you sell v-vibrators here?"
"Yes ma'am, we do," he replied, a little
embarrassed.
"B-b-b-big fl-fl-fluorescent oh-oh-orange ones?"
asked the old lady.
"Yes ma'am, we have some like that."
"The t-t-type about s-s-s-sixteen inches
l-l-l-l-long?"
"Yes ma'am, we've got just about any size you'd
want," said the young clerk.
"The k-k-kind that t-t-t-t-takes eight D-D-D Cell
b-b-b-b-batteries?"
"Yes ma'am we carry some like that."
"Well, c-could you t-t-t-tell me how the h-h-hell you
turn it off?"
|
