[QUOTE=swampbear
Bumba are you burly? Cause if you’re not, I’ll quit trying to sneak in your lap. :D[/QUOTE]
Somebody told me I was burly once. Or was that bulky? I don’t remember. 
There was once a nice Jewish boy named Benny. He wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer, so he wasn’t married. So he decided to take a vacation to the holy land, and, as he was out walking in the desert sands one day admiring the view, he stumbled over something mostly buried in the sand. It was an ancient urn of peculiar design. Benny picked it up and brushed the sand and dirt off of it and as he did, a huge cloud of smoke poured from the top of the urn and a voice said: ”Oy! What now?” And there stood a little Jewish man dressed all in black, with a long flowing white beard.
”Who are you? Benny said. Were you inside this urn? Are you a genie?”
“Well, I ain’t your uncle Mort”, the genie barked. ”Sure I’m a genie, waddya want?”
“I thought genies lived in lamps?”
“They were all out, what are your wishes? It’s hot out here.”
“Do I get three wishes?!”
- sigh * Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s the usual contract, but with a catch.”
“A catch?! “
“Yeah, a catch, what, is there an echo in here?”
I don’t remember there being a catch when someone frees a genie?”
“That’s for Arabian genies, I’m a Jewish genie, so there’s a catch.”
“A catch?”
“Again with the echo, already. Listen up bubbula, the catch is that you get your standard three wishes on the condition that from here on out, you dress all in black and never, ever shave your beard.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah, like me.”
“Or what?”
Or you have to live in the urn until some schmuck comes along and lets you out, like you just did me.”
Oh, and you have to keep the urn with you at all times, just in case. And you can’t tell anybody about this, ever.”
Well, Benny thought that wouldn’t be too hard to abide by, so he took the deal.
Many years later, as Benny was living the life of luxury, with his big house, his big car, and his trophy wife with her big…. umm… jewelry, his trophy wife started to get a little cranky about Benny’s looks. She didn’t like that he only wore black, a man in his position should show a little sparkle you know. And that beard, It was almost down to his waist, and he wouldn’t shave it, he wouldn’t even talk about it. It was just too much. She begged and pleaded and whined, but no dice. Benny wouldn’t budge. She would have denied him sexual favors, but she’d cut him off already for not giving her a big enough diamond on their anniversary, so that was no good. Besides, he was used to that. Finally, she devised a plan. One afternoon, while Benny was taking his nap, she had the pool boy sneak in, as he was used to doing, but this time she had him give Benny a shave. But as Eduardo finished the last stroke, Benny woke up with a start, and, with a horrible howl, he turned into a large cloud of smoke, and poured into the nasty old urn he always kept on the bedside table.
The trophy wife and Eduardo heard a tiny voice crying out from inside the urn, *”Rib the urn! Rub the urn!” * but they’d heard of magic lamps before and had an idea what was up, and besides they already had everything they could possibly want. They didn’t need three wishes.
So in the urn Benny was, and in the urn Benny was gonna stay!
And the moral of this story is:
A Benny shaved is a Benny urned.
