There was a zebra who had lived her entire life in a zoo and was getting on in age so the zoo keeper decided as a treat that she could spend her final years in bliss on a farm. The zebra was so excited, she got to see this huge space with green grass and hills and trees and all these strange animals. She saw a big fat weird looking brown thing and ran up to it all excited, “Hi, I’m a zebra! What are you?”

“I’m a cow.”

“What do you do?”

“I make milk for the farmer.”

“Cool.” The zebra then saw this funny looking little white thing and ran over to it. “Hi, I’m a zebra. What are you?”

“I’m a chicken.”

“What do you do?”

“I make eggs for the farmer.”

“Right, great, see ya round.” Then the zebra saw this very handsome beast that looked almost exactly like her without the stripes. She ran over to it and said, “Hi, I’m a zebra. What are you?”

“I am a Stallion,” said the stallion.

“Wow,” said the zebra. “What do you do?”

“Take off your pajamas, darlin’, and I’ll show you.”

The fine art of delivering bad news to your husband:

With a very  seductive voice, a wife asked her husband, “Have you ever seen twenty  dollars all crumpled up?”

“No,” her husband said.

She gave him a sexy little smile, unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse and slowly reached down in her cleavage, created by a soft, silky push-up bra, and pulled out a crumpled twenty dollar bill.

He took the crumpled twenty dollar bill from her and smiled approvingly.

Then she asked, “Have you ever seen fifty dollars all crumpled up?”

“No I haven’t,” he said with an anxious tone.

She gave him another sexy little smile, pulled up her skirt, seductively reached into her tight sheer panties and pulled out a crumpled fifty dollar bill.

He took the crumpled fifty dollar bill and started breathing a little quicker with anticipation.

“Now,” she cooed, “Have you ever seen 50,000 dollars all crumpled up?”

“No way,” he said, becoming even more aroused.

“Go look in the garage.”

Non ricordo più chi mi abbia inviato la storia che segue. Desidero però condividerla con i miei quattro lettori, perciò non posso che ringraziare ammirata e restare a disposizione.

Torino, esterno pomeriggio, quasi crepuscolo.
Due anziani signori, alla guida ognuno della propria vetusta automobile, hanno la sventura, o ventura,
di incorrere in un tamponamento. Eccone la cronaca.

Ye olde inhabitants of Turin, Lesson number 3: “the car crash” (”I to’ vec monsü” lesiun 3: “la bôta”)

Sbum!
“Ma t’è fol? Va’ che travaj!”
“Sun sta pa mi”
“T’a m’an pij anca par al cü ‘des?”
“Fate uis, piciu”

Tutto ciò nel pensiero. Quanto s’infutura negli atti è:

Sbum!
“Perdiana! S’è fatto male?”
“No, e lei?”
“Ah, con questa nebbia dal Po, il pavé è traditore…”
“Assolutamente, anche io, pur andando regolarmente ad una velocità inferiore ai 24 chilometri orari, devo aver ecceduto nella repentinità premendo il pedale del freno perché vede, calcolando la temporizzazione che intercorre tra verde e rosso, temevo il semaforo fosse prossimo a divenire giallo e così…”
“Ma perché non ne parliamo al caldo in un bar? Mi permetta di offrirle un caffè e un gianduiotto! Un bicerin!”
“Ma ben gentile! Mi lasci solo prendere il modulo di constatazione amichevole e…”
“Ah questi semafori… meno male che li stanno sostituendo con rotatorie alla francese!”