There once was a successful rancher who died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was determined to keep the ranch and make a go of it, but she knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand.

Two men applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk. She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied, she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.

He turned out to be fantastic worker, worked long hard hours every day and knew a lot about ranching. For weeks the two of them worked, and the ranch was doing really well. Then one day the rancher's wife said to the hired hand, "You have done a really good job and the ranch looks great, you should go into town and kick up your heels."

The hired hand agreed readily, and Saturday night went to town. However: One o'clock came and he didn't return. Two o'clock and still no hired hand. At two-thirty, finally, in came the hired hand. The rancher's wife was sitting by the fireplace and quietly called him over to her.

"Unbutton my blouse and take it off," she said.

Trembling, he did as she asked.

"Now take off my boots." He did so, slowly.

"Now take off my socks." He did.

"Now take off my skirt." He did.

"Now take off my bra." Again with trembling hands he did as she asked.

"Now," she said, "take off my panties." With great trepidation, he slowly pulled them down.

Then she looked at him and said,

"Don't you ever wear my clothes to town again!"