A Russian walks into a bar and orders a beer. "That will be one ruble," says the bartender. "One ruble!" the customer protests, "last week it was only fifty kopeks!" "Well," replies the bartender, "it's fifty kopeks for the beer and fifty kopecs for the perestroika." Reluctantly, the customer gives the bartender a ruble, and is surprised when the bartender gives him back fifty kopecs and says, "We are out of beer."
Q: What's the best way of investing your money? A: Alcohol, where else do you get 40%?
A businessman enters a tavern, sits down at the bar, and orders a double martini on the rocks. After he finishes the drink, he peeks inside his shirt pocket, then orders the bartender to prepare another double martini. After he finishes that it, he again peeks inside his shirt pocket and orders the bartender to bring another double martini. The bartender says, "Look, buddy, I'll bring ya' martinis all night long - but you gotta tell me why you look inside your shirt pocket before you order a refill." The customer replies, "I'm peeking at a photo of my wife... When she starts to look good, I know it's time to go home."
How do barmen surf the web? On the Gin-ternet.
The big-game hunter walked into the bar and bragged to everyone about his skills as a hunter. The man was undoubtedly a good shot and no one could dispute that. But then he said that he could recognize any animal’s skin by feeling it, and he could tell what caliber rifle was used to shoot it by locating the bullet hole. This was a bit too much for the other customers, and soon a heated argument started. The hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks, and the BET was on. They blindfolded him and took him to his first animal skin. After feeling it for a few moments, he announced, “Springbok.” Then he felt for the bullet hole and declared, “And it was shot with a 22 rifle.” He was right! The others could not believe it and the argument was even hotter than before. When someone suggested that he must have peeped, he said that he was prepared to do it again for another round. So they blindfolded him again, very thoroughly this time, and they brought a skin that someone happened to have in the trunk of his car. He took a bit longer this time and then said, “Kalahari Lion.” Fingering the bullet hole, he added, “The rifle was a 308.” He was right again! This only made the crowd more curious, and he had to prove his skills over and over again, every time winning a round of drinks. Finally he staggered home, bombed out of his mind, and went to sleep. The next morning he got up and saw in the mirror that he had one hell of a shiner. So he said to his wife, “Listen, I know I was drunk last night, but not too drunk to know that I didn’t get into a fight. So where did I get this black eye?” His wife replied angrily, “From me!” “What did I do?” he asked. She replied, “You got into bed and put your hand inside my panties. Then you fiddled around a bit and announced, ‘Skunk, killed with an ax!’”
A man who smelled like a distillery flopped on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading. After a few minutes the disheveled guy turned to the priest and asked, "Say, Father, what causes arthritis?" "Mister, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap wicked women, too much alcohol, and a contempt for your fellow man." "Wow," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper. The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?" "I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does."
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 drunk goes to court. The judge says, ‘You’ve been brought here for drinking.’ The drunk says, ‘Great. Let’s get started.’
A bear walks into a bar in Billings, Montana and sits down. He bangs on the bar with his paw and demands a beer. The bartender approaches and says, "We don't serve beer to bears in bars in Billings." The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a beer. The bartender tells him again, more forcefully, "We don't serve beer to belligerent bears in bars in Billings." The bear, very angry now, says, "If you don't serve me a beer, I'm going to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar." The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings." The bear goes to the end of the bar, and, as promised, eats the woman. He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer. The bartender states, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully bears in bars in Billings who are on drugs." The bear says, "I'm NOT on drugs." Te bartender says, "You are now. That was a barbitchyouate."
Chuck Norris likes his coffee half and half: half coffee grounds, half wood-grain alcohol.
The Reverend John Fuzz was pastor of a small congregation in a little Pennsylvania town. One day he was walking down Main Street and he happened to notice a female member of his congregation sitting in the town bar, drinking beer. The reverend thought this was sinful and not something a member of his congregation should do, so he walked through the open door of the bar and sat down next to the woman. "Mrs. Fitzgerald," the reverend said sternly. "This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?" "Shure," she said with a slur, obviously very drunk. When Mrs Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The reverend realized that she had had too much to drink and he grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. After rolling around for a few seconds, the reverend wound up lying on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist. The bartender looked over the bar and said, "Here, here, buddy, we won't have any of that carrying on in this bar." The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, "But you don't understand, I'm Pastor Fuzz." The bartender nodded, "Well, heck, if you're that far along you might as well finish the job."