On my 60th birthday, I got a gift certificate from my wife….
The certificate paid for a visit to a witch doctor living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After being persuaded, I drove to the reservation, handed my ticket to the witch doctor, and wondered what I was in for. The old man slowly, methodically produced a potion, handed it to me, and with a grip on my shoulder, warned,
‘This is powerful medicine and it must be respected. You take only a teaspoonful and then say ‘1-2-3. ‘When you do that, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life and you can perform as long as you want.’ I was encouraged. As he walked away, I turned and asked, ‘How do I stop the medicine from working?’ ‘Your partner must say ‘1-2-3-4,’ he responded. ‘But when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon.’
I was eager to see if it worked. I went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited my wife to join me in the bedroom. When she came in, I took off my clothes and said,’1-2-3!’
Immediately, I was the manliest of men. My wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes. And then she asked, ‘What was the 1-2-3 for?’
And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition.
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