An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness. He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finished all three, he comes back to the bar and orders three more. The bartender says to him, "You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it but it would taste better if you bought one at a time." The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in America, the other in Australia, and I'm here in Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we all used to drink together." The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there. The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar and always drinks the same way. He orders three pints and drinks the three pints by taking drinks from each of them in turn. Just after New Years Day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars in the bar 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 condolences on your sad loss." The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs. "Oh, no," he says, "Everyone is fine. It's me......I'm doing Dry January
Still can't see the image I woo by getting really drunk, nekkid, and helicoptering. Sometimes it works. Surprisingly.
A policeman searched me in a nightclub toilet last night and found a small bag of class A drugs. "It's not my fault," I said, "every time I try flushing them down the toilet they magically appear back in my pocket again." "Do you really expect me to believe that?" he laughed. I said, "I'll prove it to you if you want me to!" "Go on then," he said, handing me the bag. I flushed them down, then he looked at me and said "Well, show me your pocket then." "What for?" I asked. He said, "the drugs." I replied, "what drugs?"
