>
>
>Joe wanted to buy a motorbike. He doesn't have much luck until, one day;
>
>he comes across a Harley with a 'For Sale' sign on it.
>
>The bike seems even better than a new one, although it is 10 years old.
>
>It is shiny and in absolute mint condition. He immediately buys it, and
>asks the seller
>
>how he kept it in such great condition for 10 years.
>
>"Well, it's quite simple, really," says the seller, "whenever the bike is
>outside and it's going to rain,
>
>rub Vaseline on the chrome. It protects it from the rain." And he hands Joe
>a jar of Vaseline.
>
>That night, his girlfriend, Sandra, invites him over to meet her parents.
>Naturally, they take the bike there.
>
>But just before they enter the house, Sandra stops him and says, "I have to
>tell you something about my family before we go in."
>
>"When we eat dinner, we don't talk. In fact, the first person who ! says
>anything during dinner has to do the dishes."
>
>"No problem," he says. And in they go.
>
>Joe is shocked. Right smack in the middle of the living room is a huge
>stack of dirty dishes.
>
>In the kitchen is another huge stack of dishes. Piled up on the stairs, in
>the corridor, everywhere he looks, dirty dishes.
>
>They sit down to dinner and, sure enough, no one says a word. As dinner
>progresses, Joe decides to take advantage of the situation.
>
>So he leans over and kisses Sandra. No one says a word. So he reaches over
>and fondles her breasts. Still, nobody says a word. So he stands up, grabs
>her, rips her clothes off, throws her on the table, and screws her right
>there, in front of her parents.
>
>His girlfriend is a little flustered, her dad is obviously livid, and her
>mom horrified when he sits back down, but no one says a word.
>
>He looks at her mom. "She's got a great body," he thinks. So he grabs the
>mom, bends her over the dinner table, and has his way
>
>with her every which way right there on the dinner table. Now his
>girlfriend is furious and her dad is boiling, but still, total silence.
>
>All of a sudden there is a loud clap of thunder, and it starts to rain. Joe
>remembers his bike, so he pulls the jar of Vaseline from his pocket.
>
>Suddenly the father backs away from the table and shouts, "All right,
>that's enough, I'll do the fucking dishes!"
>
Vaseline !!!! 
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