> A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, "Dad, how
> many kinds of boobs are there?"
>
> The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there's 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?" asks the boy.
>
> "Yes," said the father, "you see them and they make you cry."
>
> This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said, "Mom, how
> many kinds of willies are there?"
>
> The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, "Well dear, a man goes
> through three phases. In his twenties, his willie is like an oak tree,
> mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties, it is a birch, flexible
> but still reliable. After his fifties, it is like an old Christmas
> tree."
>
> "A Christmas tree?"
>
> "Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only