70-Year-Old Widow Posts Newspaper Advert Looking For New Husband That Went Viral Check first comment👇👇

When you’ve been alone for a while, it can be uncomfortable and frightening to put yourself back out there and look for romantic partners.

The most important lesson to learn is, of course, to never pass judgment on people without first giving them a chance to explain themselves.

As a result, I’ve made the decision to tell you about a hilarious article I recently read. Specifically, a widow in her 70s who has placed a newspaper ad in search of a new husband.

She was at home one day when the doorbell rang. She had no way of knowing, however, who would be on the other side.

Make sure you read the entire hilarious joke down below and wait until the end for the punchline.

In a newspaper advertisement, she wrote:

“Wanted! Husband!” Must be in my age group, must not beat me, must not run around on me and must still be good in bed. Please submit your applications in person.

The doorbell rang the next day, and she answered it. She was shocked to discover an elderly man in a wheelchair when she opened the door. He was missing both limbs.

“You’re not really asking me to consider you, are you?” widow inquired, “I can’t believe it, you don’t have any legs!”

With a grin on his face, the old man said, “Therefore, I cannot run around on you!”

Saying, “You don’t have any arms either!” “She snorted.”

The elderly man grinned once more and declared, “Therefore, I can never beat you!”

To which she raised an eyebrow and inquired, “Are you still good in bed?”

The elderly man sat back and asked, “I rang the doorbell, didn’t I?” with a broad grin.

Why not try to lift someone else’s spirits? Help someone out and make them laugh by SHARING this funny story!

Related Posts

Police found the body of a 34-year-old woman, crushed in a car accident. They took her phone, but what they saw when they opened her Facebook page left them speechless! Here\’s the last thing she did before she died: Check the comments below 👇👇

Tragically, 34-year-old Courtney Ann Sanford, who was regarded as an experienced driver, perished in an automobile accident.

Number 1 Hit Singer Passed Away..Details below

His wife, Francesca, told The Hollywood Reporter that he passed away at home in Pittsburgh on Wednesday after a brief illness. “It is with deep sorrow that…

These Are Clear Signs That He Is Cr… See more

Did you know that swollen feet can be a sign of various health issues? They may indicate poor circulation, fluid retention, or inflammation. It’s important to monitor…

He believes Iran ‘delivered a hard slap to America’s face’ 😳

Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei has made his first public statement since the recent ceasefire between Iran and Israel, addressing both Iranian citizens and international audiences…

Treatment For Pimples On Forehead – 12 Best Home Cures

The best, easy, and most effective treatment for pimples on forehead is the use of natural home remedies.We mostly use chemical made products for the treatment for…

Nobody expected fifty bikers at my son\’s funeral. Least of all the four teenagers who put him there. I\’m not a crier. Twenty-six years as a high school janitor taught me to keep my emotions locked down tight. But when that first Harley rumbled into the cemetery parking lot, followed by another, then another, until the whole place vibrated with thunder—that\’s when I finally broke. My fourteen-year-old boy, Mikey, had hanged himself in our garage. The note he left mentioned four classmates by name. \”I can\’t take it anymore, Dad,\” he\’d written. \”They won\’t stop. Every day they say I should kill myself. Now they\’ll be happy.\” The police called it \”unfortunate but not criminal.\” The school principal offered \”thoughts and prayers\” then suggested we have the funeral during school hours to \”avoid potential incidents.\” I\’d never felt so powerless. Couldn\’t protect my boy while he was alive. Couldn\’t get justice after he was gone. Then Sam showed up at our door. Six-foot-three, leather vest, gray beard down to his chest. I recognized him—he pumped gas at the station where Mikey and I would stop for slushies after his therapy appointments. \”Heard about your boy,\” he said, standing awkward on our porch. \”My nephew did the same thing three years back. Different school, same reason.\” I didn\’t know what to say, so I just nodded. \”Thing is,\” Sam continued, looking past me like the words hurt to say, \”nobody stood up for my nephew. Not at the end, not after. Nobody made those kids face what they did.\” He handed me a folded paper with a phone number. \”You call if you want us there. No trouble, just… presence.\” I didn\’t call. Not at first. But the night before the funeral, I found Mikey\’s journal. Pages of torment. Screenshots of text messages telling my gentle, struggling son to \”do everyone a favor and end it.\” My hands shook as I dialed the number. \”How many people you expecting at this funeral?\” Sam asked after I explained. \”Maybe thirty. Family, some teachers. None of his classmates.\” \”The ones who bullied him—they coming?\” \”Principal said they\’re planning to, with their parents. To \’show support.\’\” The words tasted like acid. Sam was quiet for a moment. \”We\’ll be there at nine. You won\’t have to worry about a thing.\” I didn\’t understand what he meant until I saw them the next morning—a sea of leather vests, weathered faces, and solemn eyes. The Hell\’s Angels patches visible as they formed two lines leading to the small chapel, creating a corridor of protection. The funeral director approached me, panic in his eyes. \”Sir, there are… numerous motorcycle enthusiasts arriving. Should I call the police?\” \”They\’re invited guests,\” I said. When the four boys arrived with their parents, confused expressions turned to fear as they saw the bikers. Sam stepped forward and…. Check out the first comment to read the full story

Nobody expected fifty bikers at my son’s funeral. Least of all the four teenagers who put him there. I’m not a crier. Twenty-six years as a high…