The manager was stuck in a tiny town out in the middle of nowhere, waiting for materials to arrive. One week stretched to two, and by the end of the third week he couldn’t take it anymore.
He went into the local whorehouse, plunked down a hundred dollars, and requested the worst blow job in the joint. Pocketing the cash, the madam said, “Sir, for a hundred dollars, you don’t have to settle for the worst. Why, it’ll buy you the very best we have to offer.”
“Let me set you straight,” explained the fellow. “I’m not horny, I’m homesick.”
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