|Two buddies, Ralph and Rob, are getting very drunk at a bar when suddenly Rob throws up all over himself. "Oh, no. Now Jane will kill me!"|
Ralph says, "Don't worry, pal. Just tuck a twenty in your breast pocket, tell Jane that someone threw up on you and gave you twenty dollars for the dry cleaning bill."
So they stay for another couple of hours and got even drunker.
Eventually Rob rolls into home and his wife Jane starts to give him a bad time.
"You reek of alcohol and you've puked all over yourself! My God, you're disgusting!"
Speaking very carefully so as not to slur, Rob says, "Now wain aminit, I can e'splain everything! Itsh not what you think. I only had a couple drinks. But this other guy got sick on me...he'd had one too many and he just couldn't hold his liquor. He said he was very sorry an' gave me twenty bucks for the cleaning bill!"
Jane looks in the breast pocket and says, "But this is forty bucks."
"Oh, yeah... I almosh forgot, he shit in my pants, too"
|There is this corner bar that has three entrances, one on each street, and one on the corner. A drunk walks into one entrance, and bartender refuses to serve him, telling him he is too drunk.|
So, the drunk leaves, stumbles down to the corner where he finds the second entrance. He enters again, and is refused service again. He stares at the bartender, falls back out into the street, turns the corner, and finds the third entrance.
He goes back into the bar, sees the bartender, and stops dead in his tracks.
After studying the bartender for a long moment, he exclaims, "Good grief! Do you own all the bars in town?"
|A bloke went into a pub, sat down at the bar and ordered five pots. The barman wondered since he was alone, but served up the five pots. And the bloke downed them all... one, two, three, four, five.|
As he finished the last one, he called to the barman and ordered four more.
The barman served up four pots and the bloke downed them... one, two, three, four. He belched, swayed a little on his stool, but ordered three more. And again he knocked them back... one, two, three.
"Two potsh, mate!" he called.
The barman served him two pots and down they went... one, two.
"One pot, sssir!"
The barman served him one but the bloke just sat there, staring at it, trying to focus. Then he told the barman, "You know, it'sh ssstrange, but the lesssh I drink, the drunker I feel!"
|One afternoon at Cheers, Cliff Clavin was explaining the Buffalo Theory to his buddy Norm. Here's how it went:|
"Well ya see, Norm, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first.
This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members.
In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first.
In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine.
That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."