A family is at the dinner
table. The son asks the
father, “Dad, how many
kinds of boobs are
there?” The father,
surprised, answers,
“Well, son, a woman
goes through three
phases. In her 20s, a
woman’s breasts are
like melons, round and
firm. In her 30s and 40s,
they are like pears, still
nice, hanging a bit. After
50,
they are like onions.”
“Onions?” the son asks.
“Yes. You see them and
they make you cry.”
This infuriated his wife
and daughter. The
daughter asks, “Mom,
how many different
kinds of willies are
there?” The mother
smiles and says, “Well,
dear, a man goes
through three phases
also. In his 20s, his willy
is like an oak tree,
mighty and hard. In his
30s and 40s, it’s like a
birch, flexible but
reliable. After his 50s,
it’s like a Christmas
tree.” “A Christmas
tree?” the daughter
asks. “Yes, dead from
the root up and the
balls are just for
decoration.”