A drunk stumbles out of the bar and phones the police to report that thieves had been in his car. "They've stolen the dashboard, the steering wheel, the brake pedal, the radio, and even the accelerator," he cries out. However, before the police investigation could start, the phone rings a second time and the same voice came over the line. "Never mind," he said with a hiccup, "I got in the back seat by mistake."
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A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk. he staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool, and with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink. The bartender politely informs the man that it appears that he has already had plenty to drink--he could not be served additional liquor at this bar but could get a cab called for him. The drunk is briefly surprised then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down off the bar stool, and staggers out the front door. A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over, and still politely--but more firmly refuses service to the man due to his inebriation. Again, the bartender offers to call a cab for him. The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head. A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits, and belligerently orders a drink. The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is clearly drunk, will be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police will be called immediately. The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish, cries "Man! How many bars do you work at?"
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Jeff walks into a bar and sees his friend Paul slumped over the bar. He walks over and asks Paul what's wrong. "Well," replies Paul, "you know that beautiful girl at work that I wanted to ask out, but I got an erection every time I saw her?" "Yes," replies Jeff with a laugh. "Well," says Paul, straightening up, "I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, and she agreed." "That's great!" says Jeff, "When are you going out?" "I went to meet her this evening," continues Paul, "but I was worried I'd get an erection again. So I got some duct tape and taped my penis to my leg, so if I did, it wouldn't show." "Sensible" says Jeff. "So I get to her door," says Paul, "and I rang her doorbell. She answered it in the sheerest, tiniest dress you ever saw." "And what happened then?" (Paul slumps back over the bar again.) "I kicked her in the face."
What's the point in living if you don't feel alive?
Toying with ones mortality shouldn't be this much fun.
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