I almost fell over. I bent a bit double. Sandra pushed me away and I almost toppled. “You bastard!” she yelled, her hands slapping at my chest lik... hard rain. “You utter bastard! Don’t you ever speak to me again!”At last, I managed to lurch past her and pull the door open, sending her light frame flying back as the door carried her. I shot through and sank down in the corridor, bent over, sucking in awkward breaths. I think my slight drunkenness had saved me most of the pain. Or perhaps it just. When they arrived in town, he let her off at the local service station, yelled one final ‘Ye-e-e-e-h-a-a-a-a!’ and rode off.“What did you do to get that Indian so excited?” asked the service-station attendant.“Nothing,” the woman answered “I merely sat behind him on the horse, put my arms around his waist, and held onto the saddle horn so I wouldn’t fall off.”“Lady,” the attendant said, “Indians don’t use saddles.”zonedoc‎ gets right to the point:As requested a “new” joke.The punchline:Donald. More

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