Bob and his wife were sitting around the breakfast table one lazy Sunday morning when he said to her: "Shirley, if I were to die suddenly, I want you to immediately sell all my stuff."
"Now why would you want me to do something like that?" she asked.
"I figure that you would eventually remarry, and I don't want some azzhole using my stuff."
She then looked at him and said, "What makes you think I'd marry another azzhole?"
"Now why would you want me to do something like that?" she asked.
"I figure that you would eventually remarry, and I don't want some azzhole using my stuff."
She then looked at him and said, "What makes you think I'd marry another azzhole?"