Column #604 As the World Cup heats up, a word about willies and women…
Saturday, September 11, 2021
As the World Cup heats up, a word about willies and women…
Today’s Dartoid’s World issue is a joke but not of the sort readers have grown accustomed to finding in this space. It’s not about any of the screwy things that are found out and about the wacky world of our sport.
In fact, it’s not even about darts. I didn’t write it.
However, the joke was sent to me by a darts player – so there is a darts connection. Of course, I must protect the name of the person (and I do mean “name” because his first and last name are the same) who sent it because he’s a friend, is married to a good woman, has a young child, a professional job and leads a civilized life in Nashville. He’s also a damn good shot.
I receive a lot of crap e-mails. Most of the time I delete the messages when they pop onto my computer screen. It’s a powerful feeling. It used to feel great to hit the delete button when messages came in from the founder of The Darts Website That Shall Not Be Named.
But occasionally one catches my eye and makes me makes me laugh. Out loud.
This one did.
So, since I have absolutely nothing else to write this morning (I had hoped to write a daily chronicle of my experience as a member of the US World Cup Team but for some reason wasn’t selected) – and since the joke is slightly vulgar and sexist and therefore consistent with the usual fare at this website, I am passing it along.
After all, I am Dartoid!
A man wakes up in the hospital bandaged from head to foot. The doctor comes in and says, “Ah, I see you’ve regained consciousness. Now you probably won’t remember, but you were in a huge pile-up on the freeway. You’re going to be ok; you’ll walk again and everything, but your penis was severed in the accident, and we couldn’t find it.”
The man groans, but the doctor goes on, “You’ve got $9000 in insurance compensation coming and we now have the technology to build a new penis. They work great but they don’t come cheap. It’s roughly $1000 an inch.”
The man perks up.
“So,” the doctor says, “You must decide how many inches you want. But I understand that you have been married for over thirty years and this is something you should discuss with your wife. If you had a five incher before and get a nine incher now, she might be a bit put out. If you had a nine incher before and you decide to only invest in a five incher now, she might be disappointed. It’s important that she plays a role in helping you make a decision.”
The man agrees to talk it over with his wife.
The doctor comes back the next day, “So, have you spoken with your wife?”
“Yes, I have,” says the man.
“And has she helped you make a decision?”
“Yes,” says the man.
“What is your decision?” asks the doctor.
“We’re getting granite countertops.”
GOOD LUCK DANNY AND CHUCK!
From the Field,
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