Home, sweet home


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Bill and Bob met at the club for their weekly golf game. And for the
third week in a row, it was raining too hard to play.

*Bill:* Well, Bob, what do you want to do now?

*Bob:* Darts?

*Bill:* Nah.

*Bob:* Shoot some pool?

*Bill:* Nah.

*Bob:* Cards?

*Bill:* Nah. Hey, I've got an idea. We can go over to my house and
fool around with my wife.

*Bob:* Whadaya mean?

*Bill:* Just what I said. We'll go to my house and we can fool around
with my wife.

*Bob:* What about me?

*Bill:* She's a sport. She won't mind at all.

*Bob:* Well... if you think it's okay...

*Bill:* Sure. C'mon, let's go!



*Bill:* Honey, I'm home. Honey. SWEETHEART! Damn! She musta gone
shopping. Tell ya what, Bob. Let's go to YOUR house!





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