Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears running down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber. He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly.
“My darling Becky,” he whispered.
“Hush, my love,” she said. “Rest, shhh don’t talk.”
He was insistent. “Becky,” he said in his tired voice. “I…..I have something I must confess to you.”
“There’s nothing to confress,” replied the weeping Becky. “Everything’s all right, go to sleep.”
“No, no…I must die in peace. Becky….I….slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!”
“I know…” Becky whispered softly. “That’s why I poisoned you.”
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!
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John asks his wife, Mary what she wants to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary.
“Would you like a new mink coat?” he asks.
“Not really,” says Mary.
“Well, how about a new Mercedes sports car?” says John.
“No,” she responds.
“What about a new vacation home in the country?” he suggests.
She again rejects his offer with a, “No, thanks.”
“Well, what would you like for your anniversary?” John asks.
“John, I’d like a divorce,” answers Mary.
“Sorry, I wasn’t planning to spend that much,” says John.
Hmm……
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