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The "Sex" Story

For my protection my father bought me a German Shepherd Dog. When the dog found out I was Jewish, he bit me. He was a wonderful watchdog. One evening while I was being held up -- he watched.

Everybody who has a dog either calls him Rover or Boy. I called mine "Sex."

One day I took Sex for a walk and he ran away from me. I spent hours looking for him. A cop came over to me and said, "What are you doing in this alley at 4:00 in the morning?" I said, "I'm looking for Sex." MY CASE COMES UP THURSDAY.

One day I went to City Hall to get a dog license and told the clerk, "I would like a license for Sex". He said, "I'd like one too!" "But", I said, "this is a dog." He said he didn't care how she looked, I said, "But you don't understand, I've had Sex since I was two years old." He said, "You must have been a very strong baby."

I told him that when my wife and I separated, we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, "Your Honor, I had Sex before I was married." The Judge said, "Me too." Then I told him that after I was married, Sex left me. He said, "Me too!" When I told him that I had Sex on TV, he said, "Show off." I told him it was a contest, and he said I should have sold tickets.

I also told the Judge about the time when my wife and I were on our honeymoon and took the dog, Sex. When I checked with the Motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for my wife and I and a special room for Sex. The clerk said that every room in the Motel was for sex. Then I said, "You don't understand, Sex keeps me awake at night." The clerk said, "Me too."

--- I GIVE UP !!!

The Devil's Workshop
Reprinted from the January '88 issue of Playboy

Are antiporn preachers turning their flocks into sex obsessives?

That's a definite possibility, according to a Texas research team that has confirmed what most people already suspect: If you try NOT to think about something, that's ALL you can think about.

The researchers set up experiments in which they asked a group of college students not to think about a white bear. They instructed another group to think about a white bear, along with other things, at will. Sure enough, the students in the first group couldn't get the bear out of their minds. They reported that the image invaded their thoughts far more often than did those in the second group.

So can we gather that if people are repeatedly told not to think about sex, they will think about little else?

Let's do our own little test. Ready? Think of a beautiful woman stretched out diagonally across the wrinkled pink sheets of a king-size bed, eyes closed, breathing heavily, moaning softly, her left hand gently squeezing a breast as her right hand reaches down past her slowly thrusting pelvis to run her finger...


We rest our case.


The Ballad of the Bobbit Hillbillies
Come and listen to my story 'bout a man named John,
A poor x-marine with a little fraction gone.
It seems one night after gettin' it with his wife,
She lopped off his dong with the swipe of a knife.

Penis, that is.
Clean cut. Missed his nuts.

Well the next thing you know, there's a Ginsu by his side,
and Lorena's in the car takin Willie for a ride.
She soon got tired of her purple-headed friend,
And tossed him out the window as she rounded the bend.

Curve, that is.
Tossed that nub. In the shrub.

She went to the cops and confessed to the attack,
And they called out the hounds just to get his weenie back.
They sniffed and they barked and they pointed "over there",
To John Wayne's Henry that was waving in the air.

Found, that is.
By a fence. Evidence.

Now Peter and John couldn't stay apart to long,
So a dick Doc said, "Hey, I can fix your dong!".
"A needle and a thread is all we're gonna need",
And the whole world waited till they heard that John peed.

Whizzed, that is.
Even seam, Straight seam.
Well he healed and he hardened and he took his case to court,
With a half-ass lawyer, cause his assets came up short.
They cleared her of assault and aquitted him of rape,
And his pecker was the only one they didn't show on tape.

Video, that is.
Unexposed. Case closed.

Ya'll sleep on your stomachs now, Ya hear?


Barbara Walters was doing a documentary on the customs of American Indians. During the tour of a reservation they were on, she was curious about the difference in the number of feathers in the headdress. She asked a brave who had only one feather about the significance. He replies, "Me only have one squaw, me only have one feather."

She asked another brave, thinking that the first fellow was only joking. This brave had four feathers in his headdress. He replied, "Ugh, Me have four feathers because me sleep with four squaws." Still not convinced that the number of feathers indicated the number of squaws involved, she decided to interview the Chief.

Now the chief had a headdress full of feathers, the prospects of which amused Ms. Walters. She asked the Chief, "Why do you have so many feathers in your headdress?" The Chief proudly pounded his chest and said, "Me Chief, Me fuck-em-all. Big, small, fat, tall, Me fuck-em-all."

Horrified, Ms. Walters cried, "you ought to be hung." The Chief replied, "you damn right me hung...Big like Buffalo, LONG like Snake." Ms. Walters cried, "you don't have to be so goddamned hostile." The Chief replied, "Hoss-style, dog-style, wolf-style, any style, Me fuck-em-all."

Tears in her eyes, Ms. Walters cried, "Oh dear." The Chief said, "No deer...Me no fuck deer. Asshole too high and fuckers run too fast. No fuck deer." Ms. Walters fainted.