Two sisters arrived home from school crying their eyes out.

“What’s the matter with the two of you?” asked their mother.

“All the kids at school always make fun of my big feet,” wailed the first sister.

“Don’t let it bother you,” comforted the mother, “Your feet aren’t that big.” She then turned her attention to the second sister. “Now why are you crying?”

“My friends invited me to go skiing and I can’t find my skis,” she cried.

“That’s not a problem,” the mother said, “You can borrow your sister’s shoes.”

Two sisters arrived home from school crying their eyes out.

“What’s the matter with the two of you?” asked their mother.

“All the kids at school always make fun of my big feet,” wailed the first sister.

“Don’t let it bother you,” comforted the mother, “Your feet aren’t that big.” She then turned her attention to the second sister. “Now why are you crying?”

“My friends invited me to go skiing and I can’t find my skis,” she cried.

“That’s not a problem,” the mother said, “You can borrow your sister’s shoes.”

Joe and Bob were two very different people and had lived in the same valley for several years. Despite their differences, their relationship was one of amiable cooperation. One day, to reward them for their spirit of coexistence, God decided to pay a visit and reward them for their spirit of brotherly love.
God gathered the two men together and spoke to Joe, “I am very pleased with the cooperative spirit the both of you have demonstrated. Bob because being black in this day and age has proved to be a trying experience, I will reward you with exactly double everything I reward Joe. I am now happy to grant you your 5 fondest wishes.”
Joe, after thinking it over, wished he had a 50 room mansion erected on top of the mountain. Sure enough, on top of the eastern mountain, appeared a 50 room mansion. At the same time, for Bob, a 100 room mansion exactly twice the size of Joe’s mansion appeared on top of the western mountain.
Joe was very happy and Bob was absolutely elated. Bob informed Joe that they needed food and transportation. Joe agreed and, for his 2nd and 3rd wishes, requested God to fill the pantries with delicious wares and provide him with 10 different cars.
Agreeably, God filled the pantries of both mansions. In the garage of Joe’s mansion there appeared 10 different cars. In the garage of Bob’s mansion appeared 20 different cars.
Next, Bob prompted Joe about the 4th wish, “Women… we need women!”
Joe, agreeing, asked God to furnish his 4th wish as 50 of the world’s sexiest, most beautiful women. Instantly, standing in front of the Joe’s mansion were 50 of the sexiest, most beautiful women in the world. At the same time, standing in front of Bob’s mansion were 100 women, each twice as sexy and attractive as those given to Joe.
Both men were very happy and Bob danced around and exclaimed, “Go, Man! Make more wishes! Make more wishes! Oh, Lordy…this is our lucky day!…Every time you make a wish, I get twice as much…Wish, Man, Wish!”
Thinking the situation over, Joe turned to God and said, “Okay, for my 5th and final wish, I want you to remove ONE of my testicles!”

An elderly couple were killed in an accident and found themselves being given a tour of heaven by Saint Peter. “Here is your oceanside condo, over there are the tennis courts, swimming pool, and two golf courses. If you need any refreshments, just stop by any of the many bars located throughout the area.”

“Heck, Gloria,” the old man hissed when Saint Peter walked off, “we could have been here ten years ago if you hadn’t heard about all that stupid oat bran, wheat germ, and low-fat diets!”

A cucumber and a pickle are having a conversation and the pickle says to the cucumber, “You know my life really sucks. Whenever I get big, fat and juicy, they sprinkle seasonings over me and stick me in a jar.”

So the cucumber says. “Yeah, you think that’s bad, whenever I get big, fat and juicy, they slice me up and put me over a salad.”

So the penis is walking by and overhears their conversation and says,
“You think that your life is tough? Whenever I get big, fat, and juicy, they put a plastic bag over my head, stick me in a dark smelly room and make me do push ups until I throw up!!!”

When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it’s your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won’t latch.. It doesn’t matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!

The dispenser for the modern ’seat covers’ (invented by someone’s Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR !) down with your pants and assume ‘The Stance’.

In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You’d love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold ‘The Stance.’

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.

In your mind, you can hear your mother’s voice saying, ‘Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!’ Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that’s still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It’s still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn’t work.

The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

‘Occupied!’ you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it’s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you’re certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, ‘You just don’tKNOW what kind of diseases you could get’.

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.

The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You’re soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You’re exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks..

You can’t figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDEDit?)

You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman’s hand and tell her warmly, ‘Here, you just might need this.

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men’s toilet.. Annoyed, he asks, ‘What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest rooms/toilets (rest??? you’ve GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It’s so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door.

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately.