~cmd~ asked:


out for a night with “the girls.” I told my husband that I would be home by midnight. “I promise!” were my last words. Well, the hours passed and the Margaritas went down way too easy. Around 3:00 a.m. and a bit loaded, we piled into a cab and headed for home. Just as I got through the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times. Realizing my husband would probably wake up, I quickly cuckooed another 9 times. (Even when totally smashed …3 cuckoos+9 cuckoos=12 cuckoos …MIDNIGHT!) The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, “Midnight”, I said. He didn’t raise an eyebrow or anything. Whew! Got away with that one! Then he said, “I think we might need a new cuckoo clock.” When I asked him why, he said, “Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, “Oh, s***,” cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, then tripped over the coffee table and farted.

Bamboo Steamers