George was twenty years old and still living on a farm with his dad.
One day, young Bert approached his father with a question, “Dad, you know the pleasure house near our street?”
“Indeed?”
“Well,” Bert continued, “I’m considering going there to become a man.”
“The ladies there are quite professional,” Bert’s father cautioned. “They may not be interested in an amateur like yourself.”
“So, should I go elsewhere for my first time?”
That’s when Bert’s inventive father came up with a plan. “There’s a way to get practice! Just behind our barn, in the forest, you’ll find trees with knotholes. Try ‘loving’ those holes to get the hang of it.”
Taking his father’s advice to heart, Bert made daily excursions to the forest, becoming intimately acquainted with the arboreal hollows.
When he felt ready months later, Bert strutted into the pleasure house and announced to the housekeeper, “I’d like the company of a courtesan.”
“Tell me, how seasoned are you?” inquired the housekeeper.
Bert puffed out his chest, “I’ve engaged in the act each day for several months.”
Pleased, the housekeeper summoned her most radiant courtesan. The stunning woman led him upstairs, leaving the housekeeper to her thoughts. However, moments later, a piercing shriek erupted from above.
The housekeeper dashed up to find the courtesan writhing in misery on the floor. In pain, she cried, “That rascal punted me right in the middle!”
The housekeeper glared at Bert. “I entrusted you with one of our finest, and you assault her? What possessed you to do that?”
With regret in his voice, Bert explained, “I swear I meant no harm—it’s just… I thought I had to check for squirrels first.”
