Grandma Shoes     When I was very little,   all the Grandmas that I knew.   walked around this world   in ugly grandma shoes.     You know the ones I speak of,   those clunky black heeled kind,   they just looked so very awful   that it weighed upon my mind,     For I knew, when I grew old.   I'd have to wear those shoes,   I'd think of that, from time to time   It seemed like such bad news.     I never was a rebel,   wore saddle shoes to school.   Next came ballerinas,   then the sandals, pretty cool.     Then came spikes with pointed toes   then platforms, very tall.   As each new fashion came along,   I wore them, one and all.     But always, in the distance,   Looming in my future, there,   was that awful pair of ugly shoes,   the kind that Grandmas wear.     I eventually got married,   and then became a Mom.   My kids grew up and left,   And then their children came along.     I knew I was a Grandma,   and the time was drawing near,    when those clunky, black, old lace up shoes, was what I'd have to wear.     How would I do my gardening,   or take my morning hike?   I couldn't even think about   how I would ride my bike!     But fashions kept evolving,   and one day I realized,   that the shape of things to come   was changing, right before my eyes.     And now, when I go shopping,   what I see, fills me with glee,   for, in my jeans and Reeboks,   I'm as comfy as can be.     And I look at all these teenage girls,   and there, upon their feet,   are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes,   and they really think they're neat. The Boob Poem     For years and years they told me,   Be careful of your breasts.   Don't ever squeeze or bruise them,   And give them monthly tests.     So I heeded all their warnings,   And protected them by law.   Guarded them very carefully,   And I always wore my bra.     After 30 years of astute care,   My gyno, Dr. Pruitt,   Said I should get a Mammogram,   "O.K.," I said, "let's do it."     "Stand up here real close" she said,   (She got my boob in line),   "And tell me when it hurts," she said,   "Ah yes! Right there, that's fine."     She stepped upon a pedal.   I could not believe my eyes!   A plastic plate came slamming down,   My hooter's in a vise!     My skin was stretched and mangled,   From underneath my chin.   My poor boob was being squashed,   To Swedish Pancake thin.     Excruciating pain I felt,   Within it's vise-like grip.   A prisoner in this vicious thing,   My poor defenseless tit!     "Take a deep breath" she said to me,   Who does she think she's kidding?!?   My chest is mashed in her machine   And woozy I am getting.     "There, that's good," I heard her say,   (The room was slowly swaying.)     "Now, let's have a go at the other one." Have mercy, I was praying.     It squeezed me from both up and down,   It squeezed me from both sides.   I'll bet SHE'S never had this done,   To HER tender little hide.     Next time that they make me do this,   I will request a blindfold,   I have no wish to see again,   My knockers getting steamrolled.     If I had no problem when I came in,   I surely have one now.   If there had been a cyst in there,   It would have gone "ker-pow"!   This machine was created by a man,   Of this, I have no doubt.   I'd like to stick his balls in there,   And see how THEY come out. Author(s) unknown. More JOKES