A farmer decided he wanted to go to town and see a movie. As he approached, the ticket agent asked, “Sir, what’s that on your shoulder?”
The old farmer said, “That’s my pet rooster Chuck. Wherever I go, Chuck goes.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the ticket agent. “We can’t allow animals in the theatre.”
The old farmer went around the corner and stuffed Chuck down his overalls. Then he returned to the booth, bought a ticket, and entered the theatre.
He sat down next to two old widows named Mildred and Marge.
The movie started and the rooster began to squirm. The old farmer unbuttoned his fly so Chuck could stick his head out and watch the movie.
“Marge,” whispered Mildred.
“What?” said Marge.
“I think the guy next to me is a pervert.”
“What makes you think so?” asked Marge.
“He undid his pants and he has his thing out,” whispered Mildred.
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” said Marge. “At our age we’ve seen ’em all.”
“I thought so too,” said Mildred, “but this one’s eatin’ my popcorn!”
The old farmer said, “That’s my pet rooster Chuck. Wherever I go, Chuck goes.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the ticket agent. “We can’t allow animals in the theatre.”
The old farmer went around the corner and stuffed Chuck down his overalls. Then he returned to the booth, bought a ticket, and entered the theatre.
He sat down next to two old widows named Mildred and Marge.
The movie started and the rooster began to squirm. The old farmer unbuttoned his fly so Chuck could stick his head out and watch the movie.
“Marge,” whispered Mildred.
“What?” said Marge.
“I think the guy next to me is a pervert.”
“What makes you think so?” asked Marge.
“He undid his pants and he has his thing out,” whispered Mildred.
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” said Marge. “At our age we’ve seen ’em all.”
“I thought so too,” said Mildred, “but this one’s eatin’ my popcorn!”
