Lawyers should never ask a Georgia grandma a question if they aren’t prepared for the answer.
In a trial, a Southern small-town prosecuting attorney called his first witness, a grandmotherly, elderly woman to the stand. He approached her
and asked, ‘Mrs. Jones, do you know me?’
She responded, ‘Why, yes, I do know you, Mr. Williams. I’ve known you since you were a boy, and frankly, you’ve been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you’re a big shot when you haven’t the brains to realize you’ll never amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you.’
The lawyer was stunned. Not knowing what else to do, he pointed across the room and asked,
‘Mrs. Jones, do you know the defense attorney?’
She again replied, ‘Why yes, I do. I’ve known Mr. Bradley since he was a youngster, too. He’s lazy, bigoted, and he has a drinking problem. He can’t build a normal relationship with anyone, and his law practice is one of the worst in the entire state. Not to mention he cheated on his wife with three different women. One of them was your wife. Yes, I know him.’
The defense attorney nearly died.
The judge asked both counselors to approach the bench and, in a very quiet voice, said,
‘If either of you idiots asks her if she knows me, I’ll send you both to the electric chair.
A 9-year-old girl went to her grandfather, who was working in the yard and asked him, “Grampa, what is a couple sеx? ” …..
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The grandfather was surprised that she would ask such a question, but decided that if she’s old enough to know to ask the question then she’s old enough to get a straight answer. ….
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Steeling himself to leave nothing out, he proceeded to tell her all about human reproduction and the joys and responsibilities that go along with it.
When he finished explaining, the little girl was looking at him with her mouth hanging open, eyes wide in amazement.
Seeing the look on her face, the grandfather asked her, “Why did you ask this question, honey? ”
The little girl replied, “Well, Grandma says to tell you that dinner will be ready in just a couple secs.”
A sweet grandmother telephoned St. Joseph ‘s Hospital. She timidly asked, “Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?”
The operator said, “I’ll be glad to help, dear. What’s the name and room number of the patient?”
The grandmother in her weak, tremulous voice said, “Norma Findlay, Room 302.”The operator replied, “Let me put you on hold while I check with the nurse’s station for that room.”
After a few minutes, the operator returned to the phone and said, “I have good news. Her nurse just told me that Norma is doing well. Her blood pressure is fine; her blood work just came back normal and her physician, Dr. Cohen, has scheduled her to be discharged tomorrow.”
The grandmother said, “Thank you. That’s wonderful. I was so worried. God bless you for the good news.”
The operator replied, “You’re more than welcome. Is Norma your daughter?”
The grandmother said, “No, I’m Norma Findlay in Room 302. No one tells me shiт.”
Dear Connie, …
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I know the counsellor said we should’t contact each other during our “cooling off” period, but I could’t wait anymore.
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The day you left, I swore I’d never talk to you again but that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that me pride’s cost me a lot of things. I’m tired of pretending I don’t miss you. Maybe it’s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. …
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This is what my heart says: “There’s no one like you, Connie. I look for you in the eyes and вrеаsтs of every woman I see, but they’re not you. They’re not even close.
Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don’t say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Тiтs like you wouldn’t believe and an аss that just wouldn’t quit. Every man’s dream, right?
As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we’ve made important in our lives. It’s all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I’m getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart that my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I’d never really thought of that before. I don’t know, maybe I’m just growing up a little.
Later, after I’d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, “Why do I feel so drained and empty?” It wasn’t just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn’t feel the same because you weren’t there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, Im just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn’t eating right without a woman around. I didn’t know what she meant till later, but that’s not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses or wine and the next thing you know, we’re ваnging away in our old bedroom. And this таrт’s a total monster in the sack. She’s giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she’s not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother’s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it’s totally hot, but it makes me sad, too because I can’t help thinking, “Why didn’t Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We’ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sеx toy.”
Saturday, your little sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki’s just a kid and all, but she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she’s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She’s given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She’s pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we’re doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here’s this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky’s really into that whole аnаl thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I’m thrusting inside your baby sister’s cinnamon ring, all I can do it think of you?
It’s true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don’t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.
Otherwise, can you let me know where the fuскing remote is?
Pauly’s family is at dinner, the 10-year-old daughter isn’t eating much, and she just keeps her head down.
After a few minutes, she says, “I have something to tell you.”
Everyone gets silent and they all listen.
“I am no longer the virgin I used to be.” And she begins to cry.
A long silence, and Mr Pauly speaks to Mrs Pauly, “It’s your fault, you know, always dressed and made up like a тrамр. You think that’s an example for your daughter? Always wallowing on the sofa; it’s just terrible; that’s why problems like this come up!”
Then Mrs Pauly lights in on Mr Pauly, “And you! Do you think that you’re a good example? Wasting your scrawny paycheck with your drinking buddies who even come drunк into the house - do you think that’s a good example for a little girl 10 years old?”
Then Pauly charges back in, “And her sister, that no-good, with her hairy and dope-crazed boyfriend, always with their hands all over each other - you think that’s a good example too?”
And it goes on and on, back and forth. Then the grandmother hugs the little girl to console her and asks, “Now, darling, how did this happen?
And the little girl answers, trying to hold back her sobbing, “Father Michael chose another girl to be the Virgin in the Christmas pageant this year.”
My family chastises me for MY job, but you should hear how my family provides “customer service” at their jobs. My mother works as a social worker and answers the phone like, “DYFS, you beat em, we treat em.” My grandmother is a Medical Examiner and she answers the phone like, “City Morgue, you кill em, we chill em.” These вiтсhеs have no class! I’m an actress and studio secretary. When you call the studio, I answer the phone professionally like, “Good afternoon. IHOP, International House Of Рussy. Сrеамрiе Cassie speaking”.