Okay a man is in a bar and he’s getting really drunk and he goes home.
He comes back the next day to get his jacket and the bartender asks him, “Do you wanna drink?”
And the man replies, “Nah, Man I’m not drinking anymore. I was so drunk last night I was blowing Chunks all night!”
And the bartender says, “That’s okay it happens to everyone when they are drunk.
“Then the man says, “No you don’t understand my dog’s name is Chunks.”
There was this little guy sitting inside a bar, just looking at his drink. After he didn’t move for half an hour, this big trouble-making truck driver stepped up right next to him, took the drink from the guy, and just drank it all down.
The poor man started crying. The truck driver turned and said: “Come on man, I was just joking. Here, I’ll buy you another drink. I just can’t stand to see a man crying.”
“No, it’s not that. Today is the worst of day my life. First, I overslept and was late for an important meeting. My boss became outraged and then fired me.”
“When I left the building to my car, I found out that it was stolen. The police said they could do nothing. I then got a cab to return home, and after I paid the cab driver and the cab had gone, I found that I left my whole wallet in the cab.”
“I got home only to find my wife was in bed with the gardener. I left home depressed and came to this bar. And now, when I was thinking about putting an end to my life, YOU show up and drink my poison…”
A guy walks into a bar and sits down.
He starts dialling numbers like there’s a telephone in his hand, then puts his palm up against his cheek and begins talking.
Suspicious, the bartender walks over and tells him this is a very tough neighbourhood and he doesn’t need any trouble here.
The guy says, “You don’t understand. I’m very hi-tech. I had a phone installed in my hand because I was tired of carrying the cellular.”
The bartender says “Prove it.” The guy dials up a number and hands his hand to the bartender. The bartender talks into the hand and carries on a conversation.
“That’s incredible!” says the bartender. “I would never have believed it!” “Yeah”, said the guy, “I can keep in touch with my broker, my wife, you name it.
By the way, where is the men’s room?” The bartender directs him to the men’s room. The guy goes in and 5, 10, 20 minutes go by and he doesn’t return.
Fearing the worst given the neighbourhood, the bartender goes into the men’s room to check on the guy.
The guy is spread-eagled up against the wall. His pants are pulled down and he has a roll of toilet paper up his butt.
“Oh my god!” said the bartender. “Did they rob you? Are you hurt?”
The guy turns and says: “No, no, I’m ok. I’m just waiting for a fax.”
A man in a bar sees a friend at a table, drinking by himself. Approaching the friend he comments, “You look terrible. What’s the problem?”
“My mother died in August,” he said, “and left me $25,000.” “Gee, that’s tough,” he replied.
“Then in September,” the friend continued, “My father died, leaving me $90,000.”
“Wow. Two parents gone in two months. No wonder you’re depressed.”
“And last month my aunt died, and left me $15,000.”
“Three close family members lost in three months? How sad.”
“Then this month,” continued, the friend, “absolutely nothing!”
One evening, Frank was drinking at a bar when the bartender came over to tell Frank that he had a telephone call.
Frank had just bought another beer and he didn’t want anyone else to drink it.
So, Fred wrote a little sign and left it by his beer that read: “I spit in my beer.”
When Fred returned to his bar stool, there was another note beside his beer: “I spit in your beer, too!”
A rather attractive woman goes up to the bar in a quiet rural pub. She gestures alluringly to the barman who comes over immediately. When he arrives, she seductively signals that he should bring his face close to hers. When he does so, she begins to gently caress his beard which is full and bushy.
“Are you the manager?” she asks, softly stroking his face with both hands.
“Actually, no” he replies.
“Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him.” she asks, running her hands up beyond his beard and into his hair.
“I’m afraid I can’t” breathes the barman – clearly aroused. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes there is. I need you to give him a message” she continues huskily, popping a couple of fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently. “Tell him” she says “that there is no toilet paper or hand soap in the ladies room.”
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