There’s an old couple, both in their 70’s, on a sentimental holiday back to the place where they first met. They’re sitting in a pub and he says to her, “Do you remember the first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind the barn. You leaned against the fence and I made love to you from behind.”

“Yes, she says, I remember it well.” she replies.

“OK, he says, How about taking a stroll round there again and we can do it for old times sake?”

Smiling his wife responds, “Oh Henry, you devil, that sounds like a good idea, she answers.”

There’s a man sitting at the next table listening to all this, having a chuckle to himself. He thinks, I’ve got to see this, two old timers having sex against a fence. So he follows them.

They walk haltingly along, leaning on each other for support, aided by walking sticks. Finally they get to the back of the barn and make their way to the fence. The old lady lifts her skirt, takes her knickers down and the old man drops his trousers. She turns around and hangs on to the fence and the old man moves in. Suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex the watching man has ever seen. They are bucking and jumping like eighteen-year-olds. This goes on for about forty minutes. She’s yelling Ohhh God! He’s hanging on to her hips for dear life.

This is the most awesome athletic sex imaginable. Finally, they both collapse panting on the ground. The guy watching is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life that he didn’t know. He starts to think about his own aged parents and wonders whether they still have sex like this.

After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet and put their clothes back on. The guy, still watching thinks, That was truly amazing, he was going like a train. I’ve got to ask him what his secret is.

As the couple pass, the guy says to them, “That was something else, you must have been shagging for about forty minutes. How do you manage it? Is there some sort of secret?”

“No, there’s no secret, the old man says, except fifty years ago that fucking fence wasn’t electrified.”

“““““

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A solution to all of your drinking troubles

Symptom: Drinking fails to give satisfaction and taste; shirt front is wet.
Fault: Mouth not open or glass being applied to wrong part of face.
Solution: Buy another pint and practice in front of a mirror. Continue with as many pints as necessary until drinking technique is perfect.

Symptom: Drinking fails to give satisfaction and taste; beer unusually pale and clear.
Fault: Glass is empty.
Solution: Find someone who will buy you another pint.

Symptom: Feet cold and wet.
Fault: Glass being held at incorrect angle.
Solution: Turn glass so that open end is pointing at ceiling.

Symptom: Feet warm and wet.
Fault: Loss of self-control.
Solution: Go and stand beside nearest dog – After a while complain to its owner about its lack of house training.

Symptom: Bar blurred.
Fault: You are looking through the bottom of your empty glass.
Solution: Find someone who will buy you another pint.

Symptom: Bar swaying.
Fault: Air turbulence unusually high – maybe due to darts match in progress.
Solution: Insert broom handle down back of jacket.

Symptom: Bar moving.
Fault: You are being carried out.
Solution: Find out if you are being taken to another bar – if not complain loudly that you are being hi-jacked.

Symptom: The opposite wall is covered in ceiling tiles and has a fluorescent strip across it.
Fault: You have fallen over backwards.
Solution: If glass is still full, and no one is standing on your drinking arm, stay put. If not, get someone to lift you up and lash you to the bar.

Symptom: Everything has gone dim and you have a mouth full of teeth and dog-ends.
Fault: You have fallen over forwards.
Solution: Same as for falling over backwards.

Symptom: You have woken up to find your bed cold, hard and wet. You cannot see your bedroom walls or ceiling.
Fault: You have spent the night in the gutter.
Solution: Check your watch to see if its opening time – if not treat yourself to a lie in.

Symptom: Everything has gone dim.
Fault: The pub is closing.
Solution: Panic.

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“And will there be anything else, sir?” the bellboy asked after setting out an elaborate dinner for two.
“No thank you,” the gentleman replied. “That will be all.”

As the young man turned to leave, he noticed a beautiful satin negligee on the bed. “Anything for your wife ?” he asked.

“Yeah! That’s a good idea,” the fellow said. “Please bring up a postcard.”

“““““

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A fellow came into a bar and ordered a martini. Before drinking it, he removed the olive and carefully put it into a glass jar.

Then he ordered another martini and did the same thing. After an hour, when he was full of martinis and the jar was full of olives, he staggered out.

“Well,” said a customer, “I never saw anything as peculiar as that!”

“What’s so peculiar about it?” the bartender said. “His wife sent him out for a jar of olives.”

“““““

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