Ah, yes, divorce, from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man’s genitals through his wallet.
Women complain about premenstrual syndrome, but I think of it as the only time of the month that I can be myself.
Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place.
You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, "My God, you’re right! I never would’ve thought of that!"
According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful.
I am not the boss of my house. I don’t know how I lost it. I don’t know when I lost it. I don’t think I ever had it. But I’ve seen the boss’s job and I don’t want it.
We have women in the military, but they don’t put us in the front lines. They don’t know if we can fight, if we can kill. I think we can. All the general has to do is walk over to the women and say, "You see the enemy over there? They say you look fat in those uniforms."
There’s a new medical crisis. Doctors are reporting that many men are having allergic reactions to latex condoms. They say they cause severe swelling. So what’s the problem?
When the sun comes up, I have morals again.
There’s very little advice in men’s magazines, because men don’t think there’s a lot they don’t know. Women do. Women want to learn. Men think, "I know what I’m doing, just show me somebody naked."
If you can’t beat them, arrange to have them beaten.
Instead of getting married again, I’m going to find a woman I don’t like and give her a house.
The problem with the designated driver program, it’s not a desirable job. But if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it. At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house.
See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time.