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My grandfather died a few years back, he'd struggled with a stroke and to be honest, it was a blessing when he was finally at rest.

During those few weeks in hospital, he would often drift in and out of consciousness. One such time when I was there, he was in pretty decent shape.

"James", he said "we never really got that much of a chance to talk. I am sorry about that."

It was true, I was never really that close to him and we didn't really share a lot in common. However, I was his only son's only son, so I guess he felt the need to pass down this little gem of advice to me:

"I want to give you just a little bit of advice about you and your future wife. Some say that conversation is the most important, some say that shared hobbies are essential. Rubbish. The best bit of advice I can give you, my boy, is to marry a lady with small hands."

I was bemused but was sure that there would be some good reason for this nugget of knowledge. "Why grandad?" I asked.

"Quite simple - she will always make your willy look bigger".

The old boy died in 2002 - I came to Thailand in 2004 where there are lovely ladies with small hands in abundance!

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