"You know who to ask dear," replied my wife.
"Daddy," asked my daughter.
"Yes dear, what do you want?" I laughed.
"Have you got the phone number for Kim Jong-Un?"
It takes fucking ages to open a window.
But she won't let me rub it on them.
Who fucking cares.
Anyway. There was no money in that one so I sealed it and re-posted it.
You don't have to take your shoes off to jump on a Muslim
She would, wouldn't she.
"His wife," I said.