SOME years ago, in a small coastal Irish community, Paddy married a woman, Maggie, half his age.
All was well at first until Maggie took delivery of a Woman’s magazine and began to read things about sex. It soon became clear that she had never climaxed during sex and, according to her grandmother, all Irish women are entitled to a climax once in a while.
To resolve the problem, Paddy and Maggie went to see the Veterinarian since there was no doctor within 30 miles who could be relied upon not to gossip. However, the Vet didn’t have a clue about people. But he did recall during hot summers, his mother and father would fan a cow (with a big towel) that was having difficulty breeding. Apparently, this cooled her down and helped her to relax. So he recommended they hire a strong, young man to wave a big towel over them while they were having sex. This, the Vet said, should cause the young wife to cool down, relax and possibly achieve the sought after climax.
So the couple hired a strong young man from Dublin to wave a huge bath towel over them as the Vet suggested.
After many efforts, Maggie still had not climaxed so they went back to the Vet who suggested she change partners and let the young man have a go while Paddy waved the big towel.
They tried it that night and Maggie went into wild, screaming, ear-splitting climaxes, one right after the other for about two and a half hours.
When it was over, Paddy looked down at the exhausted young man and in a boasting voice shouted, “And dat, me auld son, is how ya wave a feckin’ towel”