DRRUNKARDS

DRRUNKARDS

A recipe for Fruitcake :

Ingredients:

1 gallon whiskey, 1 cup water, 1 cup sugar, 4 large eggs, 2 cups dried fruit, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 cup brown sugar, lemon juice, 1/2 cup nuts

Directions:

Sample the whiskey to check for quality.
Take a large bowl.
Check the whiskey again to be sure it is of the highest quality.
Pour one level cup and drink.
Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer; beat 1 cup butter in a large, fluffy bowl.
Add 1 teaspoon sugar and beat again.
Make sure the whiskey is still OK. Cry another tup.
Turn off mixer.
Break 2 legs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
Mix on the turner.
If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers, pry it loose with a
sdrewscriver.
Sample the whiskey to check for tonsisticity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt. Or something. Who cares?
Check the whiskey.
Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one table. Spoon. Of sugar or something. Whatever you can find.
Grease the oven.
Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees.
Don't forget to beat off the turner.
Throw the bowl out of the window.
Check the whiskey again.
Go to bed.
Who likes fruitcake anyway?

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A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk and staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool and, with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink. The bartender politely informs the man that it appears he has already had plenty to drink and that he could not be served additional liquor. The bartender offers to call a cab for him.

The drunk is briefly surprised, then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down from the bar stool and staggers out the front door. A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over and - still politely if not more firmly - refuses service to the man and again offers to call a cab. The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.

A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits, and belligerently orders a drink. The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is drunk and will be served no drinks. He then tells him that he can either call a cab or the police immediately. The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish cries, "Man! How many bars do you work at?"

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A pilgrim was walking across the prairie during the days of the Old West when he came across a small town. Passing through the town, he noticed a saloon and decided to stop and quench his thirst. After ordering a beer, he stood at the bar and observed the other clientele in the saloon.

Suddenly the saloon door swung open, and a cowboy came running in yelling "Big Jake's comin'!" Within seconds the establishment had cleared, leaving the pilgrim and his beer alone at the bar. Sure enough, a huge seven-and-a-half foot, 500 pound cowboy came swaggering in, tearing out the front door frame with his broad shoulders.

The cowboy looked around the saloon, marched over to the pilgrim, picked him up by the scruff of the neck, and threw him over the bar, bellowing "Gimme a drink!" The pilgrim complied, placing the almost-full bottle next to the glass on the bar. The cowboy tossed back the drink, then bit the neck off of the bottle and emptied that too.

At that point, the pilgrim, quaking in his boots, asked "Sir, would you care for another?" To which the cowboy replied, "Nope. I gotta go.
Big Jake's comin'!"

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