[Thanks to Terry.]
In a Chicago hospital, a gentleman had made several attempts to get into the men's restroom, but it had always been occupied.
A nurse noticed his predicament.
Sir, she said " You may use the ladies room if you promise not to touch any of the
buttons on the wall."
He did what he needed to, and as he sat there he noticed the buttons he had promised not to touch.
Each button was identified by letters: WW, WA, PP, and a red one labeled ATR.
Who would know if he touched them?
He couldn't resist.. He pushed WW. warm water was sprayed gently upon his bottom.
What a nice feeling, he thought. Men's restrooms don't have nice things like this.
Anticipating greater pleasure, he pushed the WA button. Warm air replaced the warm water, gently drying his underside.
When this stopped, he pushed the PP button. A large powder puff caressed his bottom adding a fragile scent of spring flower to this unbelievable pleasure.. The ladies restroom was more than a restroom, it is tender loving pleasure.
When the powder puff completed its pleasure, he couldn't wait to push the ATR button which he did with haste.
Next thing he knew he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed, and a nurse was staring down at him.
"What happened?" he exclaimed. The last thing I remember was pushing the ATR button.
"The button ATR is an Automatic Tampon Remover.. Your penis is under your pillow."
2 comments:
ROFLMFAO!! HILARIOUS!! Thanks for that laugh! GOOD ONE! :-)
I'm preparing a post on my blog about what it's REALLY like for a lady to use a public restroom.
It's slightly more merciful than a man pressing ATR, but that's about all the positive things you can say.
It's also frighteningly realistic! So take your handkerchiefs and prepare to be sincerely moved.
But first, I need to translate and post that story about apricots. It's not as cosmic as the raspberry milkshake, but still very... "P-04ish".
Meanwhile, to help you wait...
In a Yughuristan men's room, a guy suddenly addresses another:
- Pardon me, buddy, but you wouldn't happen to be jewish, by any chance?
- Um, that's right. Not muslim, jewish.
- Born in the Birobidjan city of Blaghapar, south district ghetto, mid-Sixties, right?
- That's uncanny! How did you guess?
- And you were given the briss [circumcision] by Rabbi Zeiligman, is that correct?
- How...? Have we met before?
- Nope.
- Then by what miracle...?
- Oh, it's quite simple. Old Rabbi Zeiligman had a shaky hand, he always cut with a slant. And for the last five minutes now, you've been pissing on my shoe.
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