I received this a few days from my brother in law J, via e-mail. He got it from Auntie Dianne. I almost didn’t post it here because, well, it is just so politically incorrect. (Did I ever mention my in-laws have a tendency to run a little bit red-neckish?)
Then I thought, PC be damned! Hopefully, you will get a smile from this on a Friday even if you might be a midget, have a speech impediment, be a midget with a speech impediment or be related to or know anyone who has any or all of these attributes. Hmm, do I need a disclaimer? Or does that about cover it? Now where was I? Oh yeah. The funny!
THE HORTH WHITHPERER
A guy calls his buddy, the horse rancher, and says he’s sending a friend over to look at a horse.
His buddy asks, ‘How will I recognize him?’
‘That’s easy; he’s a midget with a speech impediment.’
So, the midget shows up, and the guy asks him if he’s looking for a male or female horse.
‘A female horth.’
So he shows him a prized filly.
‘Nith lookin’ horth. Can I thee her eyeth’?
So the guy picks up the midget and he gives the horse’s eyes the once over.
‘Nith eyeth, can I thee her earzth’?
So he picks the little fella up again, and shows him the horse’s ears.
‘Nith earzth, can I see her mouf’?
The rancher is getting pretty ticked off by this point, but he picks him up again and shows him the horse’s mouth.
‘Nice mouf, can I see her twat’?
Totally mad as fire at this point, the rancher grabs him under his arms and rams the midget’s head as far as he can up the horse’s fanny, pulls him out and slams him on the ground.
The midget gets up, sputtering and coughing.
‘Perhapth I should rephrathe that. Can I thee her wun awound a widdle bit?’