A family was at the dinner table.
The son asked his father, 'Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?'
The father, surprised, said, 'Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts.
In her 20's, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm.
In her 30's to 40's, they're like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After 50, they're like onions'.
'Onions?'
'Yes, you see them and they make you cry.'
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said,
'Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?'
The mother, surprised, smiled and said, 'Well, dear, a man goes through three phases.
In his 20's, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard.
In his 30's and 40's, it's like a birch, flexible but reliable.
After his 50's, it's like a Christmas tree'.
'A Christmas tree?'
'Yes. Dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration.'
The son asked his father, 'Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?'
The father, surprised, said, 'Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts.
In her 20's, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm.
In her 30's to 40's, they're like pears, still nice but hanging a bit.
After 50, they're like onions'.
'Onions?'
'Yes, you see them and they make you cry.'
This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said,
'Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?'
The mother, surprised, smiled and said, 'Well, dear, a man goes through three phases.
In his 20's, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard.
In his 30's and 40's, it's like a birch, flexible but reliable.
After his 50's, it's like a Christmas tree'.
'A Christmas tree?'
'Yes. Dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration.'
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