The Old Lady and the Vibrator
An old lady walked into a sex shop.
The young clerk couldn’t help but notice her. First, because she reminded him of his dear old grandmother and second, because she was twitching violently and trembling, even more than his grandmother did.
“Young m-m-m-man?” she stammered to the clerk, “Do you sell v-v-vibrators here?”
“Yes ma’am, we do,” he replied, a little embarrassed.
“B-b-b-big fl-fl-fluorescent orange ones?” asked the old lady.
“Yes ma’am, we have some like that.”
“The t-t-type about sixteen inches l-l-long?”
“Yes ma’am, we’ve got about any size you want.”
“The k-k-kind that takes eight D-D-D cell batteries?”
“Yes ma’am, we carry some like that.”
“Well, c-c-could you t-t-tell me how in the h-h-hell to turn it off?”