…And They Say Romance Is Dead…

/ Diane Henders

Many thanks to my blogging buddy, Tom Merriman, for inviting everyone to participate in his February blogging theme. Since Valentine’s Day is coming up fast, it seemed like a perfect fit for today’s post.

I was thinking of doing a bit of flash fiction, but Tom has already set the bar too high with his first post of the month. Plus I’m completely immersed in the final push to finish the draft of Book 11 this week, so I’ll fall back on my favourite thing instead: tasteless jokes.

(I wish I could say I made these up, but I didn’t. They’ve been around the internet a few times, but they still make me laugh!)

*

Mike was going to be married to Karen so his father sat him down for a little chat. He said, “Mike, let me tell you something. On our wedding night in our honeymoon suite, I took off my pants, handed them to your mother, and said, ‘Here, try these on.’ She did and said, ‘These are too big. I can’t wear them.’

I replied, ‘Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will.’ Ever since that night, we have never had any problems.”

So on his honeymoon, Mike took off his pants and said to Karen, ‘Here, try these on.”

She tried them on and said, “These are too large. They don’t fit me.”

Mike said, “Exactly. I wear the pants in this family and I always will. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

Then Karen took off her panties and handed them to Mike and said, “Here, you try on mine.”

Mike did and said, “I can’t get into your panties.”

Karen said, “Exactly. And if you don’t change your attitude, you never will.”

…and they say romance is dead…

*

A family is sitting around the supper table when the son asks his father, “Dad, how many kinds of breasts are there?

The father replies, “Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her twenties, a woman’s breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her thirties to forties, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After fifty, they are like onions.”

“Onions?” asked the boy.

“Yes, the sight of them makes you cry.”

This infuriated the wife and daughter so the daughter asked, “Mum, how many kinds of willies are there?”

The mother smiles and answers, “Well, dear, a man goes through three phases. In a man’s twenties, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties, it is a like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his fifties, it is like a Christmas tree.”

“A Christmas tree?”

“Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are only for decoration.”

…and they say romance is dead…

*

…He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear, “Just relax.”

Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn’t care. His touch was so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full shoulders in his hands, I inhaled sharply.

Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my back, slid them down my tingling spine. Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking ‘No’ for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say…

“Okay, Ma’am, you can board your flight now.”

…and they say romance is dead…

*

Cletus is passing by Billy Bob’s hay barn one day when, through a gap in the door, he sees Billy Bob doing a slow and sensual striptease in front of an old John Deere tractor. Buttocks clenched, he performs a slow pirouette, and gently slides off first the right strap of his overalls, followed by the left.

He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease move, lets his overalls fall down to his hips, revealing a torn and frayed plaid shirt. Then, grabbing both sides of his shirt, he rips it apart to reveal his stained T-shirt underneath. With a final flourish, he tears the T-shirt from his body and hurls his baseball cap onto a pile of hay.

Having seen enough, Cletus rushes in and says, “What in the world’re ya doing, Billy Bob?”

“Good grief, Cletus, ya scared the bejeebers out of me,” says an obviously embarrassed Billy Bob. “But me ‘n the wife been havin’ trouble lately in the bedroom d’partment, and the therapist suggested I do somethin’ sexy to a tractor.” (Read that last line one more time…)

…and they say romance is dead…

*

One lazy Sunday morning the wife and I were quiet and thoughtful, sitting at the breakfast table when I said to her, “When I die, I want you to sell all my stuff immediately.”

“Now why would you want me to do something like that?” she asked.

“I figure a woman as fine as yourself would eventually remarry and I don’t want some other asshole using my stuff.”

She looked at me intently and said, “What makes you think I’d marry another asshole?”

…and they say romance is dead…

* * *

Go ahead… tell me a romantic story! 😉

43 thoughts on “…And They Say Romance Is Dead…”

  2. I need to come up with a response for Tom Merriman but the responses you got on golf reminded me of…

    An avid golfer is out one morning golfing with his buddies as a hearse and caravan of cars passes slowly by. The golfer stops mid-putt, takes off his cap and bows his head until the final car is out of sight. “What a kind gesture” says one of his buddies. “Well,” says the avid golfer, “it’s the least I could do since we’ve been married for thirty-six years.”

    …and they say romance is dead.

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  3. Here’s another oldie but goodie:
    A married couple, both avid golfers, were talking about the future one day. Wife: If I were to die, would you get married again? Hubby: (thinking for a while) Hmmm… well, I guess I would, eventually. Wife: Oh. Would you live here in the same house with your new wife? Hubby: Well, it’s a nice house, I don’t see a reason why I would move. Wife: Oh. Would you then sleep in our old bed with your new wife? Hubby: I guess so – it’s a very comfortable bed.
    Wife: Oh. Would you then give my golf clubs to her? Hubby: (very quickly) No, she’s left-handed!
    And they say romance is dead.

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  4. Loved the stories. Seems everyone has one of some kind. I was never in to Valentines Day that much. I spent all my time making sure other kids that weren’t getting many, got some extra I’d sneak a bunch of them in my pockets and slip them in their desks. I couldn’t stand seeing kids getting left out. I had a visible “sucker” written on my forehead I think. After hubby and I passed our 53rd year now we just laugh a little at the new couples worrying about what to do that’s special. Shoot, you’re still together! Celebrate that!Hold hands, hold each other and mean it. Life’s a long road and you’ll need the cushion for all the bumps and potholes. Share your fears and your tears. I remember once when we were first married, I had my feelings hurt by my mom-in-law. I was in our room crying and hubby came in, sat next to me and he started tearing up. I asked him what he was crying for a and he said when he saw me hurting, he felt hurt, so he cried too. I felt so empowered by what he said that I dried my eyes, stood up, squared my shoulders, walked out to the kitchen and told my MIL off! I told her I married her son, not her and it was he and I…only. Stay the Hell out of our business. She was shocked of course, had to run to her pastor’s house, but, she backed off a lot after that. LOL I guess that’s my romantic story after all.

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    • Aw, that is a romantic story! ❤ And the best part is that it has a 'happily ever after'. Congratulations on 53 years together, and thank you for being an inspiration to the rest of us. I think your good advice should be printed on every marriage license issued! 🙂

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  10. We’re taking a long weekend off for Valentine’s Day. Heading to San Antonio early Friday morning. Nice hotel, glorious food, romantic evenings on the River Walk…and doctors’ appointments to get cortico-steroid injections in both shoulders and to schedule another knee replacement for this summer.

    And they say romance is dead…

    Theriouth congratulathions on your nearly-phinished book, thithter! You tho rock!

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  11. Love it, Diane! This is what Valentine’s needs!
    The jokes are all funny, but the tractor one is my favourite… the cow one not far behind. Hehehe! 😉
    Thanks for taking part in this month’s theme – a great response!
    And good luck with your new book!

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  12. A man staggers into an emergency room with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat.

    Naturally,the doctor asks him what happened.

    “Well, it was like this,” said the man. “I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife, when at a difficult hole, we both sliced our balls into a pasture of cows.”

    “We went to look for them, and while I was rooting around noticed one of the cows had something white at its rear end. I walked over and lifted up the tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife’s monogram on it– stuck right in the middle of the cow’s butt.”

    “That’s when I made my big mistake.”

    “What did you do?” asks the doctor.

    “Well, I lifted the cow’s tail again and yelled to my wife, Hey, this looks like yours!”

    “I don’t remember much after that”!

    …and they say romance is dead…

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    • Bahahaha!!! The poor guy! That reminds me of another romantic story:

      A woman’s husband always called her by a pet name, ‘Beautiful Buns’, so for Valentine’s Day she decided to surprise him by getting it tattooed on her butt. So off she went to the tattoo artist, but when she got there, he told her that it wasn’t a great idea. The words were different lengths so it would be hard to centre, it was going to be expensive, and it was going to hurt.

      So after a bit of discussion, she decided to shorten it to ‘B B’, one on each cheek. That solved all the problems, and her husband would know what it meant.

      She went proudly home with her new tattoo, and that night when they were getting amorous she turned to her husband and said, “I have a surprise for you!” She turned, dropped her pants, and bent over.

      And her husband said, “Nice tattoo, but who’s Bob?”

      …and they say romance is dead…

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        • I used to teach at a high school in another town. There was a bulletin board in the teachers’ lounge that had all sorts of ‘official’ announcements on it, and each was on the official school letterhead. One day the principal was in there for something, and he noticed the criteria and methodology for determining if a female’s skirt or dress was too short. It involved the use of lipstick and the placing of the letter W on each of the student’s posterior cheeks. If the associated word was legible, the attire was deemed to be inappropriate.

          The whole procedure was spelled out in officialese, printed on school letterhead, and signed with the principal’s signature, or a very reasonable facsimile.

          The story I heard was that he glanced at the notice briefly and moved on a couple of steps, then he did an instant double-take, and blew sky high. After he finished his very loud and very profane rant at the three or four teachers who happened to be in the lounge at the time–and who knew nothing about what he was even talking about because nobody EVER looked at the bulletin board anyway–he snatched the offending document off the board WITH HIS POCKET HANDKERCHIEF and took it to his office. The rumor was that he tried to get the police to fingerprint the paper to find the perp.

          I don’t miss that gig.

          Anyway, that’s my story, and it’s sticking to me. 😉

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            • Indeed. A lot of good came from that job. FAR from that job! 🙂

              My teaching buddy at that school was a serious science geek, and I was a mechanical engineer. Word spread, and we got to do a lot of cool stuff that the others didn’t get to do. Kind of a good-news/bad-news thing, but it all balanced out ‘way into the ‘good’ column overall.

              We met a whole lot of great people through our involvement with high power rocketry, and the students we had through all that time have gone on to do some incredible things. Time well spent…for the most part. Further, deponent sayeth not. 🙂

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  14. These are wonderful. My type of Valentine’s Day talk. I’m not much for the ‘holiday.’ I think it’s kind of corny. So we don’t really celebrate it, though my husband usually brings home some chocolate for me. It’s not like I can refuse it, right? 😉

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  15. Lol new post yey.

    Don’t really have any romantic stories, most of the men in my life are rubbish and none have been particularly romantic at least not while we were together. Although I do have to admit an ex (the one in prison still) does occasionally send me a beautiful hand crafted box he has made, and on one occasion it was a beautiful handmade bird.

    Can’t wait for book eleven, eagerly awaiting it being finished I miss reading your books

    Hugs to all and happy hearts and flowers day to all

    Karen xxxx

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