The Coopers were shown into the dentist’s office, where Mr Cooper made it clear he was in a big hurry, “No fancy stuff, Doctor,” he ordered, “No gas or needles or any of that stuff. Just pull the tooth and get it over with.”
“I wish more of patients were as stoic as you,” said the dentist admiringly. “Now, which tooth is it?”
Mr Cooper turned to his wife, “Open your mouth, honey.”
“Dr Janet,” the embarrassed woman says, “I have a sexual problem. I don’t get aroused by my husband.”
Dr Janet says, “Okay, I’ll do a thorough exam tomorrow. Bring your husband in with you.”
The next day the woman returns with her husband. “Take off your clothes, Mr Thomas,” says the doctor. “ Now turn all the way around. Okay, now lie down please, Uh-huh, I see. Okay, you may put your clothes back on.”
Dr Janet takes the woman aside, “You’re in perfect health,” she says, “He doesn’t turn me on either.”
A couple goes on vacation to a fishing resort. While he’s napping, she decides to take his boat out on the lake and read. While she’s soaking up the sun, the local sheriff comes by in a boat, and says, “There’s no fishing allowed here, ma’am, I’m going to have to arrest you.”
The woman says, “But, sheriff, I’m not fishing.”
The sheriff says, “Ma’am, you have all the necessary equipment. I’m going to have to run you in.”
The woman says, “If you do that, sheriff, I’m going to have to charge you with rape.”
“But I haven’t even touched you.” said the sheriff.
“I know,” she says, “but you have all the necessary equipment.”
O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond, have you forgotten the little child, like the birds that have nested in your branches and left you?
Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at the tangle of your roots that plunged underground?
The women would come to fill their jars in the pond, and your huge black shadow would wriggle on the water like sleep struggling to wake up.
Sunlight danced on the ripple like restless tiny shuttles weaving golden tapestry.
Two ducks swam by the woody margin above their shadows, and the child would sit still and think.
He longed to be the wind and blow through your rustling branches, to be your shadow and lengthen with the day on the water, to be a bird and perch on your topmost twig, and to float like those ducks among the weeds and shadows.