08/18/2026 from Daily Jokes
#22550
Emily was just days away from tying the knot, and the pre-wedding jitters were setting in. Seeking some wisdom, she wandered into the kitchen to watch her mother, Martha, bake a fresh batch of biscuits.
“Mom?” Emily asked, leaning against the counter. “You and Dad have been happily married for over thirty years. What’s your secret? How do you keep him so happy after all this time?”
Martha stopped kneading, wiped her floury hands on her apron, and gave her daughter a deadpan, utterly serious look. Without saying a word, she promptly threw a wad of sticky biscuit dough onto the kitchen floor. She then hiked up her floral dress, squatted down right over the dough, and somehow managed to pick it up off the floor using her privates.
Emily stood there, completely frozen in shock, her jaw practically on the linoleum.
Martha stood back up, dropped the dough into the trash, and smoothed her dress down as if nothing had happened. “Practice that,” she said calmly, “and when you can do it, I guarantee your man will be satisfied for the rest of his life.”
Confused, slightly horrified, but deeply trusting of her mother’s marital wisdom, Emily spent the next few days practicing in private until she felt she had mastered the bizarre technique.
Finally, the wedding night arrived. Her anxious new husband was waiting in the bedroom, expecting a romantic, passionate evening. Instead, Emily emerged from the bathroom wearing a stunning, sexy silk negligee… and carrying a refrigerated can of Pillsbury biscuit dough.
Her husband watched in bewildered silence as she popped the can open, dramatically threw the raw dough onto the bedroom carpet, lifted her negligee, and squatted directly over it. But instead of executing her mother’s flawless technique, she let out a thunderous, room-shaking fart.
Her husband’s eyes bulged. Startled and terrified, he practically levitated off the mattress, scrambling backward until his back hit the bedroom wall.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Emily asked innocently, still squatting over the dough.
He stared at her in sheer, unadulterated horror and yelled:
“Shit, woman! If that thing barks like that for a biscuit, I sure as hell don’t want to throw any meat at it!”
