One night a police officer was staking out a particularly rowdy bar for possible DUI violations. At closing time, he saw a fellow stumble out of the bar, trip on the curb and try his keys on five different cars before he found his. The man sat in the front seat fumbling around with his keys for several minutes.
Meanwhile, all the other patrons left the bar and drove off. Finally he started his engine and began to pull away. The police officer was waiting for him. As soon as he pulled onto the street, the officer stopped him, read him his rights and administered the Breathalyzer test to determine his blood-alcohol content.
The results showed a reading of 0.0.
The puzzled officer demanded to know how that could be. The driver replied, “Tonight I’m the designated decoy.”
A man walks into a bar in London and ordered 3-glasses of beer and sits in the backyard of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn.
When he finishes, he comes back to the bar counter and orders 3 more. The bartender asks him, "You know, beer goes flat after I fill it in the glass; it would taste better if you buy one at a time."
The man replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in Dubai, the other in Canada and I'm here in London. When they left home, we promised that we'll drink this way to remember
the days when we drank together."
The bartender admits that this is a nice custom and leaves it there.
The man became a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way. He order 3-Beers and drinks them in turn.
One day, he came in and ordered only 2-Beers All the other regulars notice and fall silent.
When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says," I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my sincere condolences on your great loss. "
The man looked confused for a moment, then he laughs .... "Oh, no," he, said, "Everyone's fine - both my brothers are alive" .
" The only thing is I just quit drinking!!!"
The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I promised my husband that I would be home by midnight.
The hours passed and the champagne was going down way too easily. Around 3 a.m., drunk to the gills, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed three times. Quickly realizing he'd probably wake up, I cuckooed another nine times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him 12:00. He didn't seem disturbed at all. "Whew," I thought, "got away with that one!"
Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock." When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, "Oh shit!" cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the cat and farted.
