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 big city lawyer went duck hunting in rural North Alberta. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer's field on the other side of a fence. As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing. The litigator responded, "I shot a duck and it fell in this field, and now I'm going to retrieve it." The old farmer Peter replied, "This is my property, and you are not coming over here." The indignant lawyer said, "I am one of the best trial lawyers in Canada and, if you don't let me get that duck, I'll sue you and take everything you own." The old farmer smiled and said, "Apparently, you don't know how we settle disputes in Alberta. We settle small disagreements like this with the 'Three Kick Rule.' The lawyer asked, "What is the 'Three Kick Rule'?" The Farmer replied, "Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, I get to go first. I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives up." The lawyer quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old codger. He agreed to abide by the local custom. The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel-toed work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees! His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer's last meal gushing from his mouth. The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer's third kick to his rear end, sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie. Summoning every bit of his will and remaining strength the lawyer very slowly managed to get to his feet. Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, "Okay, you old fart. Now it's my turn." The old farmer smiled and said, "Nah, I give up. You can have the duck."
An Irishman, Englishman and Scotsman go into a pub and each order a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and one lands in each of the pints. The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another pint. The Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow. The Irishman reaches in to the glass, pinches the fly between his fingers and shakes him while yelling, "Spit it out, ya bastard! Spit it out!"
The big game hunter walked in the bar and bragged to everyone about his hunting skills. The man was undoubtedly a good shot and no one could dispute that. But then he said that they could blindfold him and he would recognize any animal's skin from its feel, and if he could locate the bullet hole he would even tell them what calibre the bullet was that killed the animal. The hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks, and so the bet was on. They blindfolded him carefully and took him to his first animal skin. After feeling it for a few moments, he announced "Bear." Then he felt the bullet hole and declared, "Shot with a .308 rifle." He was right. They brought him another skin, one that someone had in their car trunk. He took a bit longer this time and then said, "Elk, Shot with a 7mm Mag rifle. He was right again. Through the night, he proved his skills again and again, every time against a round of drinks. Finally he staggered home, drunk 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. He said to his wife, "I know I was drunk last night, but not drunk enough to get in a fight and not remember it. Where did I get this blackeye?" His wife angrily replied, "I gave it to you. You got into bed and put your hand down my panties. Then you fiddled around a bit and loudly announced, "Skunk, killed with an axe."
A mother was teaching his child about the side-effects of alcohol. She gets two short glasses, filling one with water and the other with whiskey. She says "I want you to see this." She puts a worm in the water, and it swims around. She puts a worm in the whiskey, and the worm dies immediately. She then says, feeling that she has made her point clear, "what do you have to say about this experiment?" The child responds by saying: "If I drink whiskey, I won't get worms!"
A hunter goes into the woods to hunt a bear. He carries his trusty 22-gauge rifle with him. After a while, he spots a very large bear, takes aim, and fires. When the smoke clears, the bear is gone. A moment later, the bear taps the hunter on the shoulder and says, “No one shoots at me and gets away with it. You have two choices: I can rip your throat out and eat you, or you can drop your trousers, bend over, and I’ll [insert appropriate colloquialism for sodomy here].” The hunter decides that anything is better than death, so he drops his trousers and bends over; and the bear does what he said he would do. After the bear has left, the hunter pulls up his trousers and staggers back into town. He’s pretty mad. He buys a much larger gun and returns to the forest. He sees the same bear, aims, and fires. When the smoke clears, the bear is gone. A moment later the bear taps the hunter on the shoulder and says, “You know what to do.” Afterward, the hunter pulls up his trousers, crawls back into town, and buys a bazooka. Now he’s really mad. He returns to the forest, sees the bear, aims, and fires. The force of the bazooka blast knocks him flat on his back. When the smoke clears, the bear is standing over him and says, “You’re not doing this for the hunting, are you?”
The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I told my husband that I would be home by midnight. "I promise!" Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy. Around 3 a.m., a bit blitzed, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times. Quickly realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally 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 midnight. He didn't seem disturbed at all. (Whew! 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 3 times, then said, "Oh, crap," cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the cat and farted."
A man walks into a bar and asks the bartender, "If I show you a really good trick, will you give me a free drink?" The bartender considers it, then agrees. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny rat. He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a tiny piano. The rat stretches, cracks his knuckles, and proceeds to play the blues. After the man finished his drink, he asked the bartender, "If I show you an even better trick, will you give me free drinks for the rest of the evening?" The bartender agrees, thinking that no trick could possibly be better than the first. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny rat. He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a tiny piano. The rat stretches, cracks his knuckles, and proceeds to play the blues. The man reaches into another pocket and pulls out a small bullfrog, who begins to sing along with the rat's music. While the man is enjoying his beverages, a stranger confronts him and offers him $100,000.00 for the bullfrog. "Sorry," the man replies, "he's not for sale." The stranger increases the offer to $250,000.00 cash up front. "No," he insists, "he's not for sale." The stranger again increases the offer, this time to $500,000.00 cash. The man finally agrees, and turns the frog over to the stranger in exchange for the money. "Are you insane?" the bartender demanded. "That frog could have been worth millions to you, and you let him go for a mere $500,000!" "Don't worry about it." the man answered. "The frog was really nothing special. You see, the rat's a ventriloquist."
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender… "Pour me a stiff one – just had another fight with the little woman." "Oh yeah?" said Charlie "And how did this one end?" "When it was over," Mike replied, "she came to me on her hands and knees." "Really," said Charles, "now that's a switch! What did she say?" "She said, 'Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.'"
Two hunters from Moscow charter a small plane to fly them to Siberia to go bear hunting. On landing, the pilot says, "Remember, this plane can only fly with two hunters, one pilot, and ONE bear." The hunters go out and return with two bears. So the pilot says, "I told you ONE bear!" But the hunters point out that the previous year, on payment of an extra 100 rubles, the pilot had let them put two bears on board. After long discussion centering on the impossibility of the thing and the disgraceful degree of inflation, the pilot takes 200 rubles and with much pushing and shoving the hunters get aboard with the two bears. After struggling into the air and fitfully flying for about two hours, the plane gives up and plummets to the earth in a snowbank. Climbing out from under the snow and the bears, the hunters ask the pilot where he thinks they are. The pilot says, "About the same place where we crashed last year."
A game warden was driving down the road when he came upon a boy carrying a wild turkey under his arm. He stopped and asked the boy, "Where did you get that turkey?" The boy replied, "What turkey?" The game warden said, "That turkey you're carrying under your arm." The boy looks down and said, "Well, lookee here, a turkey done roosted under my arm!" The game warden said, "Now look, you know turkey season is closed, so whatever you do to that turkey, I'm going to do to you. If you break his leg, I'm gonna break your leg. If you break his wing, I'll break your arm. Whatever you do to him, I'll do to you. So, what are you gonna do with him?" The little boy said, "I guess I'll just kiss his ass and let him go!"