The first day of first grade, Mrs. Smith asked her students to name their favorite letter.
One young girl in front raised her hand and said: “My favorite letter is ‘F,’ because the word ‘flowers’ begins with ‘F’.”
“Very good, Marissa!” Mrs. Smith chirped. “Who else?”
A young boy raised his hand and said: “I like the letter “X” because not a lot of words have an ‘X’ in them.”
“That’s also a good one, Kyle.”
Mrs. Smith scanned the room.
“Anyone else want to share?”
A small boy in the back raised his hand about wildly and said: “My favorite letter is definitely ‘G!’”
Mrs. Smith looked at the boy and asked: “Why is that, Angus?”
--The woman seductively signalled that he should bring his face closer to hers--
A beautiful woman went up to the bar in a quiet rural pub.
She gestured alluringly to the bartender who approached her immediately.
The woman seductively signalled that he should bring his face closer to hers. As he did, she gently caressed his full beard.
“Are you the manager?” she asked, softly stroking his face with both hands.
“Actually, no,” he replied.
“Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him,” she said, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” breathed the bartender. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes. I need for you to give him a message,” she continued, running her forefinger across the bartender’s lip and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.
“What should I tell him?” the flustered bartender managed to stammer.
“Tell him,” she whispered, “There’s no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room.”
