A certain woman was feeling down in the dumps, having just had her 40th
birthday. Being unable to shake the blues she made appointments with her
gynecologist and psychiatrist to see if they might help her with her
problem. 
 
When she was in with her gyn. she told him that she felt depressed and
just couldn't shake her low self-esteem. The gyn. really helped boost her
up by telling her that she should really be proud herself. That although
she was 40 years old, she had taken very good care of physical appearance.
He even went as far as to say that she had the breasts of a 19 year old girl.
 
Well her gyn. appointment seemed to help but she just wasn't quite convinced
that she looked that good. When she was in with her psyc. she told him how
she was feeling and also what the gyn. had told her about how she looked.
The psyc. agreed emphatically. He even gave her an exercise to do to help
ground that opinion in her own mind. He told her to go home, take off her
clothes, stand in front of a full length mirror and admire herself. To look
and see those 19 year old breasts for herself.
 
So she did. She went home, took off her clothes, went to the mirror and
looked. She even started to admire herself. Soon she was feeling so good
that she began to pose for herself. This really seemed to be working. Feeling
better and better, she even began to play with herself. Just when she was 
beginning to work herself up to a point of extreme pleasure, her husband
walked in. Leaning in the doorway he sarcastically asked her what she was
doing acting like that.
Her reply: "I'll have you know that today two doctors
told me that I have the breasts of a 19 year girl". "Yeah" he said, "but did
they say anything about that 40 year old ass". She said, "No, your name
never came up at all".
__________________________________
Gentlemen:
 
Whilst marching to Portugal to a position which commands the
approach to Madrid and the French forces, my officers have
been diligently complying with your requests which have been
sent by H.M.  ship from London to Lisbon and then by dispatch
rider to our headquarters.
 
We have enumerated our saddles, bridles, tents and tent poles,
and all manner of sundry items for which his Majesty's Government
holds me accountable.  I have dispatched reports on the character,
wit and spleen of every officer.  Each item and every farthing has 
been accounted for, with two regrettable exceptions for which I
beg you your indulgence.
 
Unfortunately, the sum of one shilling and ninepence remains
unaccounted for in one infantry battalion's petty cash and there
has been a hideous confusion as to the number of jars of raspberry
jam issued to one cavalry regiment during a sandstorm in western
Spain.  This reprehensive carelessness may be related to the
pressure of circumstance since we are at war with France, a fact
that may come as a bit of a surprise to you gentlemen in Whitehall.
 
This brings me to my present purpose, which is to request elucidation
of my instructions from his Majesty's Government, so that I may
better understand why I am dragging an army over these barren plains.
I construe that perforce it must be one of two alternative duties, as
given below.  I shall pursue either one with the best of my ability but
I cannot do both:
 
1.  To train an army of uniformed clerks in Spain for the benefit of
the accountant and copy-boys in London, or perchance,
 
2.  To see to it that the forces of Napoleon are driven out of Spain
 
Your most obedient servant,
Wellington

Jokes