Shall I moan now?

Old Seth had been a farmer his whole life. Up at 5am, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year, no matter what the weather, and back to bed at 11pm (if he were lucky). He had led a hard life, supported by his wife, Bess, who had borne his children and run his household. He had now retired and for once had time on his hands. He read the papers avidly, and when he’d finished those he read the womens’ magazines which Bess occasionally bought.

It was after reading “What the Doctor Says” in one of these magazines that he called to Bess.

“Sithee, come ‘ere, lass. ‘Ah’ve found out what’s bin wrong with us all these years.”

“Oh, and what would that be, Seth?”

“Well, this Doctor ‘ere says that when us makes love, you should moan! So, next time we makes love Ah wants yer ter moan, reet?”

So the next time that they are making love, Bess says, “Shall I moan now, Seth?”

“Nay lass, nay. Ah’ll tell thee when to moan.”

At the critical moment Seth says, “Now lass, NOW !”

“WELL, SETH, JUST LOOK AT THE STATE OF THAT CEILING. IF I’VE TOLD YOU ONCE I’VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES, THE CRACKS NEED FILLING AND IT NEEDS PAINTING AND YOU’VE NEVER…….!”

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