Bob was driving home over the Golden Gate Bridge after spending a great day out on the ocean fishing. His catch, cleaned and filleted, was wrapped in newspaper on the passenger side floor. He was late getting home and was speeding. Wouldn’t you know it, a cop jumped out, radar gun in hand, motioned him to the side of the bridge. Bob pulled over like a good citizen.
The cop walked up to the window and said, “You know how fast you were going, BOY?”
Bob thought for a second and said, “Uhh, 35?”
“SIXTY-SEVEN mph, son! 67 mph in a 55 zone!” said the cop.
“But if you already knew, officer,” replied Bob, “Why did you ask me?”
Fuming over Bob’s answer, the officer growled, in his normal sarcastic fashion, “That’s speeding, and you’re getting a ticket and a fine!” The cop took a good close look at Bob, in his stained fishing attire and said, “You don’t even look like you have a job! Why, I’ve never seen anyone so scruffy in my entire life!”
Bob answered, “I’ve got a job! I have a good, well-paying job!”
The cop leaned in the window, smelling Bob’s fish catch, said, “What kind of a job would a bum like you have?”
“I’m a rectum stretcher!” replied Bob.
“What you say, BOY?” asked the patrolman.
“I’m a rectum stretcher!”
The cop, scratching his head, asked, “What does a rectum stretcher do?”
Bob explained, “People call me up and say they need to be stretched, so I go over to their house. I start with a couple of fingers, then a couple more and then one whole hand, then two. Then I slowly pull them farther and farther apart until it’s a full six feet across.”
The cop, absorbed with these bizarre images in his mind, asked, “What the heck do you do with a six foot @$$hole?”
Bob answered, “You give it a radar gun and stick it at the end of a bridge!”