A henpecked husband was advised by a psychiatrist to assert himself more.

"You don't have to let your wife bully you," he said, "now, go home and show her you're the boss."

The husband decided to take the doctor's advice.  He went home, slammed the door, shook his fist in his wife's face, and growled, "From now on you're taking orders from me!  I want my supper right now, and when you get it on the table, go upstairs and lay out my clothes.  Tonight I am going out with the boys.  You are going to stay at home where you belong.  Another thing, you know who is going to tie my bow tie?"

 "I most certainly do," said his wife, smiling sweetly.

 "The undertaker."

A guy went to his doctor full of anger. "Doc," he said, "I feel like killing my wife. She's a redhead and is driving me nuts! You've got to help me. Please tell me what I should do."

The doctor thought for a moment. "Look," he said, "here are some pills. Take these twice a day and they'll allow you to fuck your wife six times a day. If you do this for thirty days, you'll finally screw her to death. And the autopsy will just show that she died of heart failure during sex."

"Wonderful, doc," said the grateful patient. "I'll start with this right away." He left with the bottle of pills and a smile on his face.

Nearly a month passed. One day, while at a medical convention, the doctor passed by the patient coming down the sidewalk in a wheelchair, just barely managing to move forward.

"What happened?" asked the doctor. "What happened to your redheaded wife?"

"Don't worry, doc," the patient reassured him, "two more days and she'll be dead."

Two men were talking. One said: I'd love to be casseroled by a redhead.

"What's that mean?" his puzzled friend said, "Casseroled is a cooking term, meaning to be done slowly for a long time."

The first man shrugged. "Exactly." he replied.