The Agony of Dyslexia
After Daylight Savings Time ended, I stopped in to visit
my dyslexic friend.
He was busy covering his penis with black shoe polish.
I said to him, "You idiot! You're supposed to turn your clock back!
Frank is 85 and lives in a Senior Citizens Home. Every night after dinner he goes to a secluded garden behind the home to sit and ponder his accomplishments and long life.
One evening, Mildred, age 82, wanders into the garden. They begin to chat and before they know it, several hours have passed.
After a short lull in their conversation, Frank turns to Mildred and asks, "Do you know what I miss most of all?"
She asks, "What?''
"Sex." he replies.
Mildred exclaims, "Why you old toot. You couldn't get it up if I held a gun to your head!"
"I know," Frank says, "but it would be nice if a woman could just hold it for awhile."
"Well, I can oblige," says Mildred, who unzips his trousers, removes his manhood and proceeds to hold it.
Afterward, they agree to meet secretly each night in the garden where they would sit and talk and Mildred would hold Frank's thingie.
Then one night Frank didn't show up at their usual meeting place. Alarmed, Mildred decided to find him and make sure he was O.K.
She walked around the Senior Citizen Home where she found him sitting by the pool with Ethel, another female resident, who was holding Frank's little pal!
Furious, Mildred yelled, "You two-timing son-of-a-gun!! What does Ethel have that I don't have?"
Old Frank smiled happily and replied, "Parkinson's"
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