RE: joke time
February 23, 2021 at 6:54 am
(This post was last modified: February 23, 2021 at 6:56 am by BrianSoddingBoru4.)
A bloke tries a new pub and notices a large jar behind the bar absolutely brimming with cash. 'Helluva tip jar, that,' he tells the barman.
'Nah, that's our contest jar,' says the barman.
'What sort of contest?' asks the patron.
'Simple, really.' answers the barman. 'You put 50 quid in the jar and then complete three challenges. Do 'em all and you win everything in the jar.'
'Jaysus, there must be two thousand pounds in that jar at least. What are the challenges?'
'Well,' says the barman, 'see that big bloke with all the muscles over there? That's our bouncer. The first challenge is to knock him out with a single punch. Then, in the alley out back, there's a Rottweiler - huge, ferocious animal with a bad tooth that makes him angrier than usual. No one can get near him. The second challenge is to go out there and pull his bad tooth. Lastly, the owner of this place lives upstairs. She's eighty years old. The third and final task is to go up there and give her a right good seeing-to.'
'Yeah, I think I'll give your contest a miss', says the patron. But as the evening wears on, and he gets drunker and drunker, he slaps his 50 down on the bar and says, 'Fuck it! I'll do your challenges!'
Without another word, he staggers over and taps the bouncer on the shoulder. When he turns around, the drunk delivers a right cross the lays the man out cold. He then staggers to the back door leading to the alley and shuts the door behind him. Everyone in the bar is shocked at the screams and howling and growls coming for the alley for the next five minutes. When the door opens again, the drunk is there - his clothes torn, his face and arms smear with blood, and his breath coming in gasps. After he recovers for a bit, he looks round the pub and says,
Boru
'Nah, that's our contest jar,' says the barman.
'What sort of contest?' asks the patron.
'Simple, really.' answers the barman. 'You put 50 quid in the jar and then complete three challenges. Do 'em all and you win everything in the jar.'
'Jaysus, there must be two thousand pounds in that jar at least. What are the challenges?'
'Well,' says the barman, 'see that big bloke with all the muscles over there? That's our bouncer. The first challenge is to knock him out with a single punch. Then, in the alley out back, there's a Rottweiler - huge, ferocious animal with a bad tooth that makes him angrier than usual. No one can get near him. The second challenge is to go out there and pull his bad tooth. Lastly, the owner of this place lives upstairs. She's eighty years old. The third and final task is to go up there and give her a right good seeing-to.'
'Yeah, I think I'll give your contest a miss', says the patron. But as the evening wears on, and he gets drunker and drunker, he slaps his 50 down on the bar and says, 'Fuck it! I'll do your challenges!'
Without another word, he staggers over and taps the bouncer on the shoulder. When he turns around, the drunk delivers a right cross the lays the man out cold. He then staggers to the back door leading to the alley and shuts the door behind him. Everyone in the bar is shocked at the screams and howling and growls coming for the alley for the next five minutes. When the door opens again, the drunk is there - his clothes torn, his face and arms smear with blood, and his breath coming in gasps. After he recovers for a bit, he looks round the pub and says,
Boru
‘But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods or no gods. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.’ - Thomas Jefferson