That reminds me of a tasteless joke. On the beach on the French Riviera, a lifeguard sees a women in trouble, flailing her arms and going under. He swims out and drags her back to shore, but she's in bad shape. He tries CPR but it's no use, and she dies on the sand.
The lifeguard runs off to get the police. When he returns with the local gendarme, they find to their horror that there's a man making love to the body. "What are you doing?" the lifeguard yells. "That woman is dead!"
"Dead?" the guy says. "Sacre bleu! I thought she was an American!"
2 comments:
I Am Not Dead, I Just Don't Move Much.
That reminds me of a tasteless joke. On the beach on the French Riviera, a lifeguard sees a women in trouble, flailing her arms and going under. He swims out and drags her back to shore, but she's in bad shape. He tries CPR but it's no use, and she dies on the sand.
The lifeguard runs off to get the police. When he returns with the local gendarme, they find to their horror that there's a man making love to the body. "What are you doing?" the lifeguard yells. "That woman is dead!"
"Dead?" the guy says. "Sacre bleu! I thought she was an American!"
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