Happy Monday! This comes off better if you see and hear it, but here's my mom's favorite dirty joke:

Irving's been widowed for several years when he finally retires. His friend Sol sits with him at the retirement luncheon.

"Oyving, old friend. Now that you've retired, ya gotta come down to Flawrida and live where my brutha does."

"Sol, vat's so great about Boca?"

"Irv, I'm tellink you. You get yesself a condo on da beach en Boca, okay? Den, you buy yesself a fancy schmancy new car and park it right out front. Da foist day, you go out dere and polish da car. Da vimmen vill come runnink to you!"

So, Irving figures he's got nothing to lose. He sells his house and moves himself down to Boca, where he buys a condo near the beach. Then, he buys a brand-new Rolls-Royce, and parks it right outside the front door of the building. On his first day in his new home, he dutifully goes outside and polishes the fenders. Suddenly, he hears a voice.

"Yoo-hoo!"

He looks up, and a woman has stuck her head out the window of another condo, and she's waving.

"Yoo-hoo, is dat your car?" she asks.

"Well, yes," admits Irving, puffing his chest out and sucking in his stomach, "that's my car."

"Really? Vould you like to come up and haf a drink vit me?" she offers.

"Sure!" Irving responds. She tells him to come to the third floor, and he drops the chamois to race for the elevator. When he gets off the elevator, he sees a door ajar and tentatively opens it. Inside a beautifully appointed living room, the woman reclines on a chaise, clad only in a lacy black negligee. She's perhaps in her fifties. She's coiffed, made up, and lovely.

"Vell, hello dere," she purrs. "Are you new here?" she gestures for Irving to enter.

"Uh, yes," Irving replies. "I just moved in downstairs."

"Ah," she says, pouring him a scotch. "And dat's your shiny car down dere?"

"Yes," Irv says. "It's a Rolls."

"Very nice," the woman says, handing him the scotch in a hefty tumbler. "So, tell me, New Man, vat is your name?"

"I...Irving."

"Irving, such a sexy name!" The woman rises to meet him. "Tell me, Irving, do you like sex?" She draws a finger from his throat down his chest.

"Um, uh," he stammers. "Sure, I like sex."

"Really. Do you like.... kinky sex?" The woman draws the negligee off her shoulders.

"Uh.... uh.... yes, yes." Irving stands absolutely still.

"Dat's good," the woman says. "Take off your clothes." The negligee drops to the floor, and the woman lounges back on the chaise.

Irving stands still for a second longer, then strips naked in three seconds flat with shaking fingers.

"Now, Irving, come to me, dahling. Come stand right here in front of me."

Irving complies. The woman takes his balls gently into her hands and looks up at him.

"And dat was really your fancy new car down there?" she asked, looking into his eyes, still cupping his balls.

"Yes, yes it's mine," Irving says, barely breathing.

The woman claps her hands together. "Den <clap> don't you ever <clap>  park in my <clap> spot again!"