Bill and the pickle factory
Bill worked in a pickle factory.
He had been employed there for many years when he came home one day to confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion. He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer.
His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill said he would be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.
One day a few weeks later, Bill came home and his wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong.
“What’s wrong, Bill?” she asked.
“Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?”
“Oh, Bill, you didn’t!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, I did.” he replied. “My God, Bill, what happened?”
“I got fired.”
“No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?”
“Oh…she got fired too.”
He had been employed there for many years when he came home one day to confess to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion. He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer.
His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about it, but Bill said he would be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own.
One day a few weeks later, Bill came home and his wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong.
“What’s wrong, Bill?” she asked.
“Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?”
“Oh, Bill, you didn’t!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, I did.” he replied. “My God, Bill, what happened?”
“I got fired.”
“No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?”
“Oh…she got fired too.”
LOL. WHAT A DISGUISE.