The co-founder of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle empire, Arthur Davidson, died in 1950 and went to heaven.

At the gates, St. Peter told Arthur. ‘Since you’ve been

such a good man and your motorcycles have changed the world, your reward is, you can hang out with anyone you want to in heaven.’

Arthur thought about it for a minute and then said, ‘ I want to hang out with God.’

St. Peter took Arthur to the Throne Room, and introduced him to God.

God recognized Arthur and commented, ‘Okay, so you were the one who developed the Harley-Davidson motorcycle? ‘
Arthur said, ‘Yeah, that’s me…’

God commented: ‘Well, what’s the big deal in developing something that’s pretty unstable, makes noise and pollution and can’t run without

a road?‘

Arthur was a bit embarrassed, but finally spoke, ‘Excuse me, but aren’t you the developer of woman?’

God said, ‘Ah, yes.’

‘Well,’ said Arthur, ‘professional to professional, you have some major design flaws in your product!

1. There’s too much inconsistency in the front-end suspension

2. It chatters constantly at high speed

3. Most rear ends are too soft and wobble about too much.

4. The intake is placed way too close to the exhaust.

5. The maintenance costs are outrageous!!!!

‘Hmmmmm, you may have some good points there,’ replied God, ‘Hold on.’

God went to his Celestial supercomputer, typed in a few words and waited for the results.

The computer printed out a slip of paper and God read it.

‘Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed,’ God said to Arthur, ‘but according to these numbers, more men are riding my product than yours’.

After a long night of making love, he notices a photo of another man on her
nightstand by the bed.

He begins to worry……….. “Is this your husband?”he nervously asks.

“No, silly,” she replies, snuggling up to him.

“Your boyfriend, then?” he continues.

“No, not at all,” she says, nibbling away at his ear.

“Is it your dad or your brother?” he inquires, hoping to be reassured.

“No, no, no! You are so hot when you’re jealous!” she answers.

“Well, who in the hell is he, then?” he demands.

“That’s me before the surgery!”