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Bar

Designated Drunk

Jun 5, 2021

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Neighbours had complained to the mayor about the noisy pub on the corner of 3rd & Lambourne. Seems that the old cronies got together every friday & saturday, played cards, drank beer, told lies and jokes till 2am Saturday morning, when the pub had to close.

Officer Redding, parked down the street was not amused. He checked his watch, noted it was 01:55, time for the old drunks to start leaving. If he hadn’t been assigned this crap detail he’d be down at the I-80 Truck stop about now having a nice hot cup of coffee. Redding pulled out a cigarette and was about to light up when the door of the pub slammed open and an old geezer stumbled out. Redding put the smoke back in the pack; he was ‘on point’ now. The old man stumbled around, fished his car keys out of his pocket, dropped them a couple of times, finally found them and weaved down the sidewalk and across the road to his car. Redding started his engine, watching carefully as the old man fumbled to unlock his door. Other patrons leaving the pub seemed a little tipsy, but nothing like the old goat trying to get into his car. As soon as the old man’s car started to pull away from the curb, Redding was on him like a hound on a bone, siren, red lights and loud speaker. Redding wanted these complaining neighbours to know the city was doing it’s job.

“Outta the car, old man!” demanded Redding.
“But officer, I haven’t had anything to drink!” complained the old man.
“Sure, you haven’t, old timer, sure you haven’t”, replied Redding as he put on the cuffs on the old man and hauled him downtown.

At the station, the old man blew into the breathalyzer, and the needle didn’t move.

“What the… YOU haven’t been drinking, old timer!” Redding exclaimed.
“But that’s what i tried to tell you back there, officer!” explained the old man.
“Well then why were you stumbling all over the place?” asked Redding.
“Well, officer, tonight when we all got to the pub, they elected me to be the ‘designated drunk’ when the place closed down!”

Hormone Hostage

Jun 5, 2021

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Every “Hormone Hostage” knows that there are days in the month when all a man has to do is open his mouth and he takes his life in his hands. This is a handy guide that should be as common as a driver’s license in the wallet of every husband, boyfriend or significant other.

DANGEROUS: What’s for dinner?
SAFER: Can I help you with dinner?
SAFEST: Where would you like to go for dinner?

DANGEROUS: Are you wearing THAT?
SAFER: Gee, you look good in brown.
SAFEST: Wow! Look at you!

DANGEROUS: What are you so worked up about?
SAFER: Could we be overreacting?
SAFEST: Here’s fifty dollars.

DANGEROUS: Should you be eating that?
SAFER: You know, there are a lot of apples left.
SAFEST: Can I get you a glass of wine with that?

DANGEROUS: What did you DO all day?
SAFER: I hope you didn’t over do it today.
SAFEST: I’ve always loved you in that robe.

Sherry or Port

Jun 5, 2021

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A wealthy playboy met a beautiful young girl in an exclusive lounge. He took her to his lavish apartment where he soon discovered she was not a tramp, but was well groomed and apparently very intelligent.

Hoping to get her into bed; he began showing her his collection of expensive paintings, first editions by famous authors and offered her a glass of wine.

He asked whether she preferred Port or Sherry and she said, “Oh, Sherry by all means. To me it’s the nectar of the gods. Just looking at it in a crystal-clear decanter fills me with a glorious sense of anticipation. When the stopper is removed and the gorgeous liquid is poured into my glass, I inhale the enchanting aroma and I’m lifted on the wings of ecstasy. It seems as though I’m about to drink a magic potion and my whole being begins to glow. The sound of a thousand violins being softly played fills my ears and I’m transported into another world. On the other hand, Port makes me fart.”

Grab a Beer

Jun 5, 2021

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A man came home from work and sat in his recliner, happy to be home and relaxing after a long and hectic day at the office.

He called to his wife, “Honey, bring me a beer before it starts.”

Somewhat irritated but willing to fulfill her hard-working husband’s wish, she got a beer from the refrigerator and promptly delivered it to her reclining husband.

He immediately began drinking it, and not more than fifteen minutes later he called to his wife a second time, “Honey, grab another beer for me before it starts.”

Now truly annoyed but unwilling to get into an argument, the wife stomped into the kitchen, snatched a beer from the refrigerator and tossed it at her reclining husband as she walked past him.

Once again, he immediately began guzzling the beer, and about ten minutes later he called out to his wife a third time, “Honey, bring me another beer will you? It’s just about to start.”

Now at the end of her rope, the wife stormed through the house into the kitchen, all the while speaking in an angry voice about how she was not put on this earth to be a slave to the opposite sex and that she was not going to be her husband’s own personal bartender for the entire night. She had had a long day too, and expected some peace and quiet for herself. She jerked open the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and slammed the refrigerator closed. She finished ranting just about the time she reached her reclining husband and threw the third beer at him.

Satisfied, the husband opened the beer, took a large gulp of the frosty brew, and said, “Ahhh, just in time.”

Caught by Cuckoo Clock

Jun 5, 2021

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Just after I got married, I was invited out for a night with “the boys.” I told the misses that I would be home by midnight … promise!

Well, the hours passed and the beer was going down way too easy, at around 3 A.M. drunk as a skunk, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up, and cuckooed 3 times.

Quickly I realised she’d probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself, having a quick witty solution, even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict.

Next morning the wife asked me what time I got in and I told her 12 o’clock. She didn’t seem disturbed at all. Whew!

Got away with that one! She then told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why, she said “Well, it cuckooed 3 times, said ‘oh fuck,’ cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it’s throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more and then farted.

Dead Doberman

Jun 5, 2021

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A highly timid little man, ventured into a biker bar in the Bronx and clearing his throat asked, “Um, err, which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied outside to the parking meter?

“A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his body hair growing out through the seams, turned slowly on his stool, looked down at the quivering little man and said, “It’s my dog. Why?”

“Well,” squeaked the little man, obviously very nervous, “I believe my dog just killed it, sir.”

“What?” roared the big man in disbelief. “What in the hell kind of dog do you have?”

“Sir,” answered the little man, “It’s a four week old puppy.”

“Bull!” roared the biker, “How could your puppy kill my Doberman?” “It appears that he choked on it, sir.”