What does a 75 year old woman have between her breasts that a 25 year old doesn't?

Her Navel!

Why are men like cars?

Because they always pull out before they check to see if anyone else is cumming.

If Sex was Clean and Food was a Four letter word…

When people got angry at you, they'd yell out "Oh yeah? Well, food you. Suck cheese you Popsicle slurper." Punks in passing cars would flip you the fork. Flashers would have pizzas strapped to their chests. "Ohmigod. It's a pepperoni." Locker room talk would change. "Hey, man, how'd you do this weekend?" "Two burgers and a bag of fries. Crinkle cut." Garlic would be illegal in most Southern states. Supermarkets would check I.D.'s and charge admission to the poultry section. Frederick's of Hollywood would feature peekaboo napkins and day-of-the-week paper plates. Foreplay would be listed as a menu selection. Vice squads would conduct raids on backyard barbecues. "All right, put down your meat. Just back away from the buns, mister." Vegetarians would be prohibited from becoming teachers and a lot of them would move to the Bay Area. Hookers would become cooks. You'd be accosted on street corners by plump ladies in Day-Glo aprons. "Hey, big boy, looking for a hot meal? Wanna crack some crab?" Fundamental Christians would make meat and potatoes a religious tenet. Many sexual positions would be found to be carcinogenic. Parents would tell their children not to play with their food or they'll go blind. Kids would remember the first time their mother caught them marinating.

THE PROSPECTOR LIMERICK (Adult Humor)

An old desert rat named Burdew
Came to town one day for a screw.
He threw down a quarter
And drawled out, "That orter
Cover a quick poke or two."

The madam looked very askance
At the grime on his shirt and his pants,
His scruffy gray beard,
The eyes that went weird,
And the odor that wasn't from France.

"Ol" fella," she said with a grin,
"For a quarter, I'll let you right in
To a room that's just ripe
For a man of your type
And a gal that's ideal for your sin."

The prospector's eyes went aglow
As the fire began burning below.
His hands started shaking
And his knees were aquaking.
It was plain he was rarin' to go.

So they led him out back of the place
To a shed with just enough space
For the fattest pink sow,
He'd seen anyhow
With a sorta' sweet smile on her face.

Burdew shoved everyone aside,
Slammed the door and was quickly astride
His porky delight
Where he spent the whole night
In a passionate piggyback ride!

At daybreak, Burdew poked his head
Out of the tumbledown shed
With a satisfied sigh,
He said, "Miss Piggy and I
Will be having our breakfast in bed."