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"What's the matter with you?" the husband said when the sailor climbed down. '"We weren't making love."
"Sorry," said the sailor, "From up there it looked like you were." Every morning thereafter, the sailor scaled the same tree and yelled the same thing. Finally the husband decided to climb the tree and see for himself. With great difficulty, he made his way to the top. The husband says to himself, "By golly he's right! It DOES look like they're making love down there!"
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"Just stay in bed with me. He's probably so drunk, he ain't gonna notice you here with me." The fear of getting caught trying to escape was more powerful than the thought of getting caught in bed with Marge, so he trusted her advice. Sure enough, Marge's husband came crawling into bed and as he pulled the covers over him, he pulled the blankets, exposing six feet.
"Honey!" he yelled. "What the hell is going on? I see six feet at the end of the bed!"
"Dear, you're so drunk, you can't count. If you don't believe me, count them again."
The husband got out of bed, and counted. "One, two, three, four... By gosh, you're right, dear!"
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