When I was in 3rd grade at Adlai E. Stevenson elementary school in Chicago, I had a friend named Billy Weeks. Billy was older. He was in 6th grade and he was a patrol boy. Every day as we walked to school, there would be Billy in his bright orange belt standing on his corner. I don't know where he got them all from, but each morning he would have a new joke for us. I don't remember most of them because most of them were not memorable. But just a few have stuck with me over the years. So as not to be lost in the mist of time, I want to tell you one of Billy's jokes.
WARNING: The following paragraph contains scatological humor age appropriate for a ten year old boy in 1967.
There's this guy who has never been with a woman before and decides to hire a prostitute. She comes to his place and asks, "So what do you like?" Not sure what to say he asks what she would like. The hooker responds, "How about some 69?" He says ok. So they're going at it, but she gets some bad gas pains. All of a sudden she lets one fly. It's strong enough to knock a buzzard off a shitwagon and the guy starts gagging and choking, but slowly gets back into the 69. Now she really lets one rip. The poor dude is ready to pass out. The women gets a little self conscience and asks, "What do you think of 69?" He says, "Its awesome, but I don't think I can take 67 more of those!"
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