The hurricane came unexpectedly. The ship went down and was lost. The man found himself swept up on the shore of an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing to do. Only bananas and coconuts.
So for the next four months he ate bananas, drank coconut juice and longed for his old life.
He fixed his gaze on the sea, hoping to spot a rescue ship. One day, as he was lying on the beach,
he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. It was a rowboat, and in it was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. She rowed up to him.
In disbelief, he asked her: “Where did you come from? How did you get here?”
“I rowed from the other side of the island,” she said. “I landed here when my cruise ship sank.”
“Amazing,” he said. “I didn’t know anyone else survived. How many are there?
You were lucky to have a rowboat wash up with you."
"Its only me,” she said, ” and the rowboat
didn’t wash up; nothing did.” He was confused. “Then how did you get the rowboat?”
“Oh, simple,” replied the woman. “I made the rowboat out of materials that I found on the island.
The oars were whittled from Gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm branches and the sides and stern came from a Eucalyptus tree.”
“B-B-But that’s impossible,” stuttered the man. “You had no tools or hardware. How did you manage?"
"Oh, that was no problem,” replied the woman. “On the other side of the island there is a very unusual rock formation exposed. I found that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into iron. I used that for tools, and used the tools to make the hardware.”
“But enough of that,” she said. “Where do you live?” Sheepishly, he confessed that he had been
sleeping on the beach the whole time. “Well, let’s row over to my place, then.” she said.
After a few minutes of rowing she docked the boat at a small wharf. As the man looked to the shore,
he nearly fell out of the boat. Before him was a stone walk leading to an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white. While the woman tied up the rowboat with an expertly woven hемр rope, the man could only stare ahead, dumbstruck.
As they walked into the house, she said casually, “It’s not much, but I call it home. Sit down, please;
would you like a drink?"
"No, no thank you,” he said, still dazed. “I can’t take any more coconut juice."
"It’s not coconut juice,” the woman replied. “I have a still. How about a Pina Colada?”
Trying to hide his amazement, the man accepted, and they sat down on her couch to talk.
After they had exchanged their stories, the woman announced, “I’m going to slip into something comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There is a razor upstairs in the bathroom.” No longer questioning anything, the man went into the bathroom. There in the cabinet was a razor made from a воnе handle. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge were fastened
onto it’s end. “This woman is amazing,” he thought. “What next?”
When he returned, she greeted him wearing nothing but vines and smelling faintly of gardenias.
She beckoned for him to sit down next to her. “Tell me,” she began, suggestively, slithering closer to him, “we’ve been out here for a very long time. You’ve been lonely. There’s something I’m sure you really feel like doing right now, something you’ve been longing for all these months. You know…” She stared into his eyes.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You mean-?” he replied,
“I can check my Facebook from here?”
An old hillbilly farmer had a wife who nagged him unmercifully. From morning till night (and sometimes later), she was always complaining about something. The only time he got any relief was when he was out plowing with his old mule. He tried to plow a lot.

One day, when he was out plowing, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump, and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began haranguing him again. Complain, nag, nag; it just went on and on.

All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet; caught her smack in the back of the head. Killed her dead on the spot.

At the funeral several days later, the minister noticed something rather odd. When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement. This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask the old farmer about it.

So after the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer, and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men.

The old farmer said:
"Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I'd nod my head in agreement."

"And what about the men?" the minister asked.

"They all wanted to know if the mule was for sale."