The Washington Post



There was this guy who had a pet yak named Bernice. Bernice wrote poetry -- in iambic pentameter, mostly.  It wasn't bad, particularly for a yak. 

So one day the guy answers a knock at the door.  It's a farmer in bib overalls. The farmer says that he couldn't help but notice the rather beautiful yak grazing out front.  "I'm a real admirer of animals," he said, "and quite an expert in 'animal husbandry,' if you know what i mean.... "

"Afraid I don't," the guy says.

"Wal," says the farmer, "let's just say I love being with animals."   

"Sorry, you're losing me, fella."

The farmer sighs. 

"Look, I'm asking permission to spend some time with that fine animal." Nudge, wink.  "I'd find a place to situate my manhood."  

The guy in the house drew himself up, indignantly. 

'Never!" He thundered. "Not in MY yak bard."


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