a little funny

language-lover in me had to repost this, courtesy meh mudda in a rare occasion of safe-for-public-email. lemme take in front and say: is not really the joke, yuh know, is the extra @ the end...

on his 74th birthday, a man got a gift certificate from his wife for a visit to a medicine man rumoured to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. after being persuaded, he drove to the reservation, handed his ticket to the medicine man, and wondered what he was in for. the old man slowly produced a potion, handed it to him, and with a grip on his shoulder, warned, "this is a powerful medicine, and it must be respected. you take only a teaspoonful, and then say '1-2-3'. when you do that, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform as long as you want."

the man was encouraged, but as he walked away he turned and asked, "how do i stop the medicine from working?"

"your partner must say '1-2-3-4', but when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."

eager to see if it worked, he went home, showered+shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. when she came in, he took off his clothes and said, "1-2-3!"

immediately, he was the manliest of men. his wife got excited and began throwing off her clothes, and then she asked, "what was the 1-2-3 for?"

and that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition: we could end up with a dangling participle...

walk good.