He was enjoying it so much that a few months back, I suggested to him that he needed a G-mail account; that way, when somebody sends me a joke I know will suit his fancy (slightly naughty, in other words), I'd forward it. Now the wonderful thing is, I can send him jokes I've received twenty times; they're all new to him, and he laughs heartily at them.
A little while ago he went to look at his email and wasn't signed in. Since I can type a lot faster than he can, I slipped behind his chair, reached down to the keyboard, and signed him in. There were about ten emails there, but they'd all been read.
"You've looked at these," I said. "You need to delete them."
"Oh no," he says, "that's the ones I saved."
Why would you save a bunch of jokes you've read?"
"Oh hell, they're funny!"
Must be one of those Mars/Venus things. Somehow a joke isn't funny to me after I've heard it a dozen times.