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On a transatlantic flight
On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse. When one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular loses it. She stands up in front of the plane and screams "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on Earth to be memorable! No one has ever made me really feel like a woman! Well, I've had it!! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?" For a moment there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril, and they all stare, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane. Then from the back of the plane in a baritone voice came a reply: "I can make you feel like a woman." The woman looked toward the back of the plane and saw the man who had answered stand up. Oh, my God. He's gorgeous! Tall, built, with long, flowing blond hair and jet black eyes, he starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. No one moves. The woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the stranger approaches. He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches her, he extends his arm holding the shirt then whispers: "Iron this."
On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse. When one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular loses it. She stands up in front of the plane and screams "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on Earth to be memorable! No one has ever made me really feel like a woman! Well, I've had it!! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?" For a moment there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril, and they all stare, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane. Then from the back of the plane in a baritone voice came a reply: "I can make you feel like a woman." The woman looked toward the back of the plane and saw the man who had answered stand up. Oh, my God. He's gorgeous! Tall, built, with long, flowing blond hair and jet black eyes, he starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. No one moves. The woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the stranger approaches. He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches her, he extends his arm holding the shirt then whispers: "Iron this."