One day, a little old lady walked into a sex shop. The young
clerk couldn't help but notice her, first, because she reminded
him of his dear old grandmother, and second because she was
twitching violently and trembling, even more than his grandmother
did.


"Young m-m-m-man?" she stammered to the clerk, "Do you sell v- v-
vibrators here?"

"Yes ma'am, we do," he replied, a little embarrassed.

"B-b-b-big fl-fl-fluorescent oh-oh-orange ones?" asked the old
lady.

"Yes ma'am, we have some like that."

"The t-t-type about s-s-s-sixteen inches l-l-l-l-long?"

"Yes ma'am, we've got just about any size you'd want," said the
young clerk.

"The k-k-kind that t-t-t-t-takes eight D-D-D Cell b-b-b-b-
batteries?"

"Yes ma'am we carry some like that."

"Well, c-could you t-t-t-tell me how the h-h-hell you turn it
off?"