Harry's wife had died, and at the funeral Harry was in a terrible state. He kept crying, yelling, pulling his hair and wailing. "What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?"

The priest took pity on the poor man and went over to him. "My son," said the priest, "I know this is hard on you, but eventually the pain will go away and you will find another woman, marry again and forget about all this in the years to come."

"Yeah, Yeah Reverend, I know all that," Harry sobbed, "But who's gonna cook my dinner and give me a blow job tonight?"

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