Wicked Tuna

I've had too many "lady parts" stories lately that cannot be talked about.  The theme of most say to me...."the Crotch Controls".

Girls rule the world.  We all know this, even if the mens don't admit this.  As an example:  the Fiscal Cliff, that was such BIG NEWS until the end of the year, would have been completely avoided if you got a bunch of women together with a few bottles of wine.  Oh, big budget you say?  More milk, less meat, done.  No big wood in the pants dance, no big face saving political posturing.  Easy.  Pay the frickin' bills already and stop spending or giving it away.

A friend of mine had Lady Parts surgery, thank god.  That was one of the best procedures that a man could ever invent.  I saw her husband last night.  What does he say?  "Nothing in the vagina for two months".  As if that's a hardship.  Doesn't he have two hands?  Evidently not.  Once again....the Crotch Controls.  She is loving not having pain, blood, worry and the like.  He is concerned about getting some business.

Another friend has been diagnosed with Stage 1 prostrate cancer.  A problem and concern, to be sure.  But really, this has been seen as a disease of normal aging, i.e., watch and see.  Do you see any woman waiting and see about breast cancer?  Yeah, not so much.  I'm hoping we'll have the basic blood test (PSA) equivalent for women, too, some day.

So this all wraps up to a good joke I heard:  George was out golfing with his buddies the other day.  Normally a scratch golfer, he moaned when he missed yet another 6 inch putt.  "Oh, my wife is putting out once a week now, it really effects my game."  His buddy, Fred, said, "Yeah, you think that's bad;  some of us have been cut out altogether."

The Crotch Controls.