This was his Indian name given to him because he had only one testicle.
After years and years of this torment Onestone cracked and said, “If anyone calls me Onestone again I will kill them!” The word got around and nobody called him that any more.
Then one day a young girl named Blue Bird forgot and said, “Good morning Onestone.”
He jumped up, grabbed her and took her deep into the forest and there he made love to her all day, he made love to her all night, he made love to her all the next day, until Blue Bird died from exhaustion.
The word got around that Onestone meant business.
Years went by until a woman named Yellow Bird returned to the village after many years away.
Yellow Bird who was Blue Bird’s cousin was overjoyed when she saw Onestone and hugged him and said, “Good to see you Onestone.”
Onestone grabbed her and took her deep into the forest where he made love to her all day, made love to her all night, made love to her all the next day, made love to her all the next night, but Yellow Bird wouldn’t die!
What is the moral of the story?
You can’t kill two Birds with One Stone.
via email from Bob Rosen, Wed, 23 Jun 2004 22:27:25 -0500
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