One misty Scottish morning a man is driving through the hills to Inverness.
Suddenly out of the мisт, a massive red-haired highlander steps into the middle of the road. The man is at least six feet four, has a huge red beard and, despite the wind, мisт, and near freezing temperatures, is wearing only his kilt, a tweed shirt and a tam-o''-shanter at a rakish angle.
At the roadside there also stands a young woman. She is absolutely beautiful - slim, shapely, fair complexion, golden hair... heart stopping. The driver stops and stares, and his attention is only distracted from the lovely girl when the red thing opens the car door and drags him from his seat onto the road with a fist resembling a whole raw ham.
''''Right, you Jimmy,'''' he shouts, ''''Ah want you to маsтurвате!''''
''''But......'''' stammers the driver.
''''Du it now - or I''ll bluddy кill yu!''''
So the driver turns his back on the girl, drops his trousers and starts to маsтurвате. Thinking of the girl on the roadside, this doesn''t take him long.
''''Right!'''' snarls the Highlander ''''Du it agin, now!''''
So the driver does it again. ''''Right laddie, du it agin!'''' demands the Highlander.
This goes on for nearly two hours. The hapless driver gets cramps in both arms, he has rubbed himself raw, is violently aching, his sight is failing and despite the cold wind, he has collapsed in a sweating, jibbering heap on the ground, unable to stand.
''''Du it again!'''' says the Highlander.
''''I can''t do it any more - you''ll just have to кill me!'''' whimpers the man.
The Highlander looks down at the pathetic soul slumped on the roadside and says, ''''All right laddie. NOW, can you give ma daughter a lift to Inverness?''''

A family is at the dinner table. The son asks the father:
"Dad, how many kinds of воовs are there?"
The father, surprised, answers:
"Well, son, a woman goes through three phases. In her 20s, her вrеаsтs 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 infuriates his wife and daughter. The daughter asks:
"Mom, how many different kinds of penises are there?"
The mother smiles and says,
"Well, dear, a man also goes through three phases. In his 20s, his реnis 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 ваlls are just for decoration.”