I took a day off from work to play golf. I was on the fourth hole, when I discovered a small frog sitting on the green. I paid it no attention until I heard, "Ribbit. 9-iron." That's curious, I thought, but decided to trust the frog. I pulled out a 9-iron and sunk a hole-in-one. Amazed, I picked up the frog and asked where we should go next. "Ribbit. Vegas." We went to Vegas, and I asked the frog what we should do first. "Ribbit. Roulette." We went up to the roulette table, and I won big. I took my earnings and got the best room in the hotel. I asked the frog if there was anything I could do to repay it. "Ribbit. Kiss me." I figured, what the hell, and I kissed the frog. It turned into a 15-year-old girl. That's how she ended up in my room, your Honor, and if I'm lying, my name's not R. Kelly.
An attractive woman from New York was driving through a remote part of Texas when her car broke down. An Indian on horseback came along and offered her a ride to a nearby town. She climbed up behind him on the horse and they rode off. The ride was uneventful except that every few minutes the Indian would let out a whoop so loud that it would echo from the surrounding hills. When they arrived in town, he let her off at the local service station, yelled one final, "Yahoo!" and rode off. "What did you do to get that Indian so excited?" asked the service station attendant. "Nothing," shrugged the woman, "I merely sat behind him on the horse, put my arms around his waist, and held onto his saddle horn so I wouldn't fall off." "Lady," the attendant said, "Indians ride bareback..."