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>
>On a transatlantic flight, a plane passed through a severe storm. The
>turbulence was awful, and things went from bad to worse when one wing was
>struck by lightning.
>
>One woman in particular lost it. Screaming, she stood up in the front of
>the plane. "I'm too young to die," she wailed. Then she yelled, "Well, if
>I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on earth to be memorable! Is
>there anyone on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?"
>
>For a moment, there was silence. Everyone had forgotten his or her own
>peril. Eyes riveted, they all stared at the desperate woman at the front
>of the plane.
>
>
>Then a man from Texas stood up in the rear of the plane. He was handsome,
>tall, well built, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Slowly, he
>started to walk up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time.
>No one moved. He removed his shirt. Muscles rippled across his chest.
>She gasped.
>
>He looked into her eyes and said, "Iron this -- and then get me a beer