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."
~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~
Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking
buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary. He
tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs
bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing
the
banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.
A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially
painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants and looked in
the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He
managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid
as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid the now almost
empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt
and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night, weren't you?"
Flynn said, "Why you say such a mean thing?"
Well," Mary said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken
glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing
through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly . . . it's
all
those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror!"
