Da guy’s got good freakin’ taste. Yo, Sluggo, if Santa doesn’t do da right ting, give him and his freakin’ reindeer a BADDA BING!
December 23, 2004
People often send me jokes about lawyers and Irish drunks. I can’t imagine why.
Occasionally, I run across one myself that I had not heard before, such as this one*, which, as my Granny used to say, “handed me a laugh.”
An Irishman’s been at a pub all night drinking.
The bartender finally says that the bar is closed.
So he stands up to leave and falls flat on his face.
He figures he’ll crawl outside and get some fresh
air and maybe that will sober him up.
Once outside he stands up and falls flat on his face.
So he crawls home and at the door stands up and falls
flat on his face. He crawls through the door and up the stairs.
When he reaches his bed he tries one more time to stand up.
This time he falls right into bed and is sound asleep.
He awakens the next morning to his wife standing
over him shouting at him.
“So, you’ve been out drinking again!”
“How did you know?” he asks.
“The pub called, you left your damn wheelchair there again.”
*I normally don’t post jokes, figuring that many of you have already heard or read them elsewhere, and I know that this is the second joke I’ve posted in as many days. Maybe it’s the season.