I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when a big, trouble-making biker stepped up next to me, grabbed my drink and gulped it down.
"So? What are you gonna do about that?" he says, menacingly.
"This is the worst day of my life," I say. "I'm a complete failure. I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen and I don't have any insurance. I left my wallet in the cab I took home. I found my old lady in bed with the gardener, and then my dog bit me."
"I came to this bar to work up the courage to end it all. I buy a drink, drop a capsule in and sit here watching the arsenic dissolve. Then some jerk appears, grabs my drink and tossed it down with one chug!"
"But enough about me. How's your day going?"
LOL That was so funny. I gotta try to remember that one just in case that ever happens to me. Thanks for the morning laugh.,
I actually just read this one yesterday, Stewart. You beat me to posting it on AR. Thanks for the chuckle.
Stewart, I'm copying your joke down right now..going to try it out on a client later today!
Wonderful. So much better than having to actually strangle the guy instead.
Stewart, that was a brilliant one. I'm going to save this one for the next monday morning office meeting. More of these are encouraged, keep em coming. Cheers and have a good week. Jark.
Stewart, I like! Isn't it something how it goes some days? Like I always say,'I know why people drink'.
Stewart, lol, how did i end up in the lounge on a monday. Guess its going to be one of those weeks. lol. Thanks for my funny dose of the morning.
Okay Stewart, you made me laugh and then you made me think about my very first date.
I was still in High School. He was on leave from the Army.
He picked me up in the only car he could afford, a 1959 Plymouth.
I stepped into the drivers seat (the passenger seat wouldn't open) and my foot went through the floorboard.
He opened up the vent window, rolled down the passenger window, climbed inside and removed my foot out of the rusted floorboard.
Out of the floorboard came a long leg with a shredded yellow nylon - this was before panty hose was invented.
He drove me to my dance but he got lost (yawn, I'm sure you all heard that line before!)
He drove further than my parents would have permitted - where it was, I didn't have a clue.
I got scared and started a fight with him. I called him a moron because he ripped my yellow nylon and I didn't get to go the dance.
He yelled back at me and I turned up the radio and yelled back even louder.
One of us broke the radio knob. I blamed him. He blamed me and then it went dead.... the radio.
The night got darker and I still didn't know where he was taking me. By now it started to rain.
I told him to turn on the windshield wipers. He told me he'd turn them on when he was good and ready.
The rain was beating down so hard I couldn't see out the window (even though he claimed he could see just fine.)
He also said, "I'm not lost, you are!"
I reached over to turn on the windshield wipers and something broke.
He now had to manually stop every couple of feet and wipe the windshield with his hands.
It started to rain harder. By now it was thundering and lightening, we had no windshield wipers, the radio was dead, My shredded nylon wasn't very pretty and I was mad as hell.
He wanted to know what's wrong?
I wouldn't answer so he drove faster.
Behind the foggy back window we saw police lights.
He got a ticket!
I told the police man my story.
He ordered the driver to kiss me and make-up.
He did. We did get married!
Enough about me. So what's the point of the story? Hell if I know... I must be getting old and I feel I'm entitled to tell my stories that nobody really cares about.
Okay Stewart, you made me laugh and then you made me think about my very first date.
I was still in High School. He was on leave from the Army.
He picked me up in the only car he could afford, a 1959 Plymouth.
I stepped into the drivers seat (the passenger seat wouldn't open) and my foot went through the floorboard.
He opened up the vent window, rolled down the passenger window, climbed inside and removed my foot out of the rusted floorboard.
Out of the floorboard came a long leg with a shredded yellow nylon - this was before panty hose was invented.
He drove me to my dance but he got lost (yawn, I'm sure you all heard that line before!)
He drove further than my parents would have permitted - where it was, I didn't have a clue.
I got scared and started a fight with him. I called him a moron because he ripped my yellow nylon and I didn't get to go the dance.
He yelled back at me and I turned up the radio and yelled back even louder.
One of us broke the radio knob. I blamed him. He blamed me and then it went dead.... the radio.
The night got darker and I still didn't know where he was taking me. By now it started to rain.
I told him to turn on the windshield wipers. He told me he'd turn them on when he was good and ready.
The rain was beating down so hard I couldn't see out the window (even though he claimed he could see just fine.)
He also said, "I'm not lost, you are!"
I reached over to turn on the windshield wipers and something broke.
He now had to manually stop every couple of feet and wipe the windshield with his hands.
It started to rain harder. By now it was thundering and lightening, we had no windshield wipers, the radio was dead, My shredded nylon wasn't very pretty and I was mad as hell.
He wanted to know what's wrong?
I wouldn't answer so he drove faster.
Behind the foggy back window we saw police lights.
He got a ticket!
I told the police man my story.
He ordered the driver to kiss me and make-up.
He did. We did get married!
Enough about me. So what's the point of the story? Hell if I know... I must be getting old and I feel I'm entitled to tell my stories that nobody really cares about.
I love it, Stewart!!! Laughing my you-know-what off! (I guess the cool kids say LMAO)
Stewart: That's funny!
Patricia: I did not see your punch line coming at all :)
Comments(22)