She told him. I'm going to hit the men's room. I was going to tell you a joke about my pecker, but it's too long. Mm-hmm. That's okay. I was going to tell a joke about my beaver, but you'll never get it. What did I miss? Nothing.
Now listen. I can rebuild a motor. Weld damn near anything. But put me on a dance floor. Hell. Somebody better call an ambulance. Right in a man, little bar outside of town. Cold beer flowing, country music loud. I was sitting in the corner, minding my own. When a pretty little troublemaker wouldn't leave me alone. She said, "Come on, cowboy, let's
If you can get it to get up, you can get a free meal. What, so I get this for free if I turn that the right way round? Without spilling a drop. Yes. Do you have crisps? I know you call them chips, right? Chips, chips. We have. So what do you call them? Chips? Chips. What do you call them? Chips? Crisps! Now you're probably thinking, what's he doing
HAS ANYONE ELSE EVER WONDERED HOW THIS GUY COULD GO TO THE SAME BAR EVERY DAY FOR YEARS, OCCUPY THE SAME STOOL AND DRINK BEER AFTER BEER FROM THE TIME THEY OPENED TILL THE TIME THEY CLOSED. AND YET, SOMEHOW, I CAN NOT RECALL EVEN ONE EPISODE WHERE I HAVE SEEN THIS GUY DRUNK. I HAVE TRIED MANY TIMES TO REPLICATE THIS FEAT, BUT WITH NO SUCCESS. NOT E
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