was driving home over the Golden Gate Bridge after spending a great day on the ocean fishing.
His catch, cleaned and filleted, was wrapped in newspaper on the passenger-side floor.
He was late getting home and was speeding… Wouldn’t you know that a cop jumped out, radar gun in hand, and motioned him to the side of the bridge.
Bob pulled over like a good citizen. The cop walked up to the window and said, “You know how fast you were going, boy?” Bob thought for a second and said, “Uh, 60?” “67 miles per hour, son! 67 miles per hour in a 55 zone!” said the cop.
“But if you already knew, officer,” replied Bob, “why did you ask me?” Fuming over Bob’s answer, the officer growled and said in his sarcastic fashion, “That’s speeding, and you’re getting a ticket and a fine!”
The cop took a good close look at Bob in his stained fishing attire and said, “You don’t even look like you have a job!
Why, I’ve never seen anyone so scruffy in my entire life!” Bob answered, “I’ve got a job! I have a good, well-paying job!” The cop leaned in the window, smelling Bob’s fish, and said, “What kind of job would a bum like you have?”
“I’m a rectum stretcher!” replied Bob. “What did you say, boy?” asked the patrolman. “I’m a rectum stretcher!” The cop, scratching his head, asked, “What does a rectum stretcher do?” Bob explained, “People call me up and say they need to be stretched, so I go over to their house. I start with a couple of fingers, then a couple more, then one whole hand, and then two. Then I slowly pull them farther and farther apart until it’s a full six feet across.”
The cop, absorbed with these bizarre images in his mind, asked, “What the hell do you do with a six-foot asshole?”
Bob said, “You give him a radar gun and place him by a bridge!”