Uncle Emory goes fishing
Now you remember my Uncle Emory Katz who has the grapefruit farm with the alligator pond on it? Well, every once in a while Emory gets an urge to go catfishing down in the Delta Country of Lousianna.
One Friday he loaded up his jon boat and hitched the trailer to his 1963 Studebaker truck and off he went to spend the weekend fishing.
After a successful week, he headed back only to be pulled over by a small town cop at the end of the bridge by Waterston. Now this big old boy informed my Uncle that he had clocked him doing 63 in a 55 mph zone. When Uncle Em asked him if he could pay the fine by check, the cop looked over the beat up old truck and boat and asked Emory if he had a job and if his check was any good.
Uncle Emory answered, "I've got a job! I have a good, well-paying job!"
The cop leaned in the window, smelling Uncle Em's fish catch, said, "What kind of a job would a bum like you have?"
"I'm a rectum stretcher!" replied my uncle.
"What did you say, BOY?" asked the patrolman.
"I'm a rectum stretcher!", repeated Uncle Em.
The cop, scratching his head, asked, "What does a rectum stretcher do?"
Uncle Emory explained, "People call me up and say they need to be stretched, so I go over to their house. I start with a couple of fingers, then a couple more, and then one whole hand, then two. Then I slowly pull them farther and farther apart until it's a full six feet across."
The cop, absorbed with these bizarre images in his mind, asked, "What the hell do you do with a six foot asshole?"
My Uncle Emory Katz nonchalantly answered, "You give it a radar gun and stick it at the end of a bridge!"
Last edited by Jenae LaTorque; 09-22-2009 at 03:37 AM.
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