Grandma Makes the Rules

Grandma Makes the Rules

I honestly thought old-school grandparents had become extinct… until I went grocery shopping the other day.
While I was walking down an aisle, I overheard a grandmother having a very serious conversation with her young grandson.
The little boy was sprinting around the store like he was training for the Olympics.
Grandma finally called out, “Boy, cut out all that running! I’m only gonna tell you ONE time!”
“If I have to tell you again… you ain’t gonna like what happens next!”
The boy stopped for a second, crossed his arms, and fired back, “I’m gonna tell my dad on you!”
Grandma didn’t miss a beat.
“Go right ahead!” she said. “That’s MY son!”
“He may be all grown up now…”
“…but I’ll still wear him out too!”
The little boy suddenly decided walking quietly beside Grandma was an excellent idea.
Some legends never retire… they just become grandparents.

My friend, Charlie

Charlie was visiting an old friend and his wife for dinner. When the time came to leave, his car wouldn’t start, and it was too late to call the local service station.

The husband urged Charlie to stay over.

There was no spare bed in the house–there wasn’t even a sofa. So Charlie would have to sleep with the husband and wife.

No sooner had the husband fallen asleep when the wife tapped Charlie on the shoulder and motioned for him to come over to her. “I couldn’t do that,” he whispered. “Your husband is my best friend!”

“Listen, sugar,” she whispered back, “there ain’t nothing in the whole wide world could wake hime up now.”

“I can’t believe that,” Charlie said. “Certainly if I get on top of you and scr.ew you, he’ll wake up won’t he?

“He certainly won’t. If you don’t believe me, pluck a hair out of his @ss and see if that wakes him.” Charlie did just that. Reached over and yanked. He was amazed when the husband remained asleep. So he climbed over to the wife’s side of the bed and f*cked her.

When he finished, he climbed back to his own side. It wasn’t long before she tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him over again. Again he yanked a hair to determine if his old friend was asleep. This went on eight times during the night. Each time Charlie scr*wed the woman, he first pulled out one of the husband’s @ss hairs.

The ninth time he pulled a hair, the husband awoke and muttered: “Listen, Charlie, old pal, I don’t mind you f*cking my wife, but please stop using my ass for a scoreboard!”

The Nun’s Confession about the Parrot
An elderly nun walked into the church’s confession booth, looking deeply troubled. When the priest opened the partition, she sighed heavily and began to speak in a soft, trembling voice.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” she whispered. “I have committed the sin of wrath and bad language. Yesterday, I lost my temper completely and said some very unholy things to the convent’s pet parrot.”
The priest, knowing how holy and gentle the nun usually was, smiled gently through the screen. “My dear Sister, we all lose our patience sometimes. What on earth did the parrot do to make you so angry?”
The nun wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, Father, I spent three weeks trying to teach that bird to say ‘Praise the Lord’ or ‘Hallelujah’. But yesterday afternoon, right when the Mother Superior walked into the room, the parrot looked at her and shouted a very rude phrase: ‘Hey fat lady, clean my cage!’.”
The priest tried very hard to hide his laughter. “And what did you say to the bird, Sister?”
The nun looked down in shame and confessed, “I grabbed the cage, shook it hard, and yelled at the top of my lungs: ‘Shut up, you stu-pid animal, or I’m going to cook you for Sunday dinner and feed you to the Bishop!’.”
The priest cleared his throat, trying to stay professional, and asked, “And did the parrot stop?”
The nun nodded slowly, “Yes, Father. But now, whenever I walk into the kitchen, it stares at the oven and whispers: ‘Please, Sister, don’t baptize me in there!’.”

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