Fred comes home after a hard day's work at the pickle factory and announces to his wife that he's developed a terrible sexual compulsion; he wants to stick his d*ck in the pickle slicer.
His wife suggests he see a sex therapist, but he says he's too embarrassed. He promises to sort his problem out himself ...
A few weeks later, Fred comes home ashen-faced.
His wife can see he's seriously upset.
'What's wrong?' asks the wife.
'Well ... you know that urge I had to stick my d*ck in the pickle slicer...'
'Oh, My God!' says his wife, 'What happened?!'
'I got fired' says Fred.
His wife quickly unzips him and, to her surprise, finds his d*ck still intact. Astonished, she asks 'What happened with the pickle slicer?'
'Oh,' says Fred, 'She got fired too’.
His wife suggests he see a sex therapist, but he says he's too embarrassed. He promises to sort his problem out himself ...
A few weeks later, Fred comes home ashen-faced.
His wife can see he's seriously upset.
'What's wrong?' asks the wife.
'Well ... you know that urge I had to stick my d*ck in the pickle slicer...'
'Oh, My God!' says his wife, 'What happened?!'
'I got fired' says Fred.
His wife quickly unzips him and, to her surprise, finds his d*ck still intact. Astonished, she asks 'What happened with the pickle slicer?'
'Oh,' says Fred, 'She got fired too’.
