On my 60th birthday, I got a gift certificate from my wife. The certificate
paid for a visit to a shaman living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to
have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After being persuaded, I drove
to the reservation, handed my ticket to the shaman, and wondered what I was in
for.

The old man slowly, methodically produced a potion, handed it to me, and with a
grip on my shoulder, warned, 'This is powerful medicine and it must be
respected. You take only a teaspoonful and then say '1-2-3.' When you do that,
you will be more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you will be
able to perform as long as you want.'I was encouraged. As he walked away, I
turned and asked, 'How do I stop the medicine from working?''Your partner must
say '1-2-3-4,' the shaman responded. 'But when she does, the medicine will not
work again until the next full moon. 'I was eager to see if it worked. I went
home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited Cara
to join me in the bedroom. When she came in, I took off my clothes and said, '1-
2-3!' Immediately, I was the manliest of men.Cara was excited and began
throwing off her clothes. And then she asked, 'What was the 1-2-3 for? 'And
that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a
preposition!

Perfect