On the dangers of driving while drinking:
I left the Slap & Tickle last night about closing time. Well, AFTER closing time, actually, since I'm the one who has to lock up. At the corner, I stuck my arm out my car window to signal a turn and some pedestrian stole my beer right out of my hand. Moral: if you MUST drink on the way home, then don't signal. I think the pedestrian was Soubriquet, except he doesn't drink any more. Maybe it was Adullamite. Well, he doesn't drink either, but he would take it just to sell it. Actually, I don't drink either so this is a dumb joke. Let me rethink it and get back to you. Meanwhile:
There was this poor Irish lad standing next to the road crying. And Mr. Flannigan, his neighbor, stops and asks him what's wrong and why'r'ye cryin' and like that.
And the litle boy goes, "Me ma just died! Waaaaaa!"
Well, Flannigan is sorry for the poor tyke of course. "You're Catholic, aren't ye boy? Do ye want me to go fetch Father O'Reiley?"
The boy cries even harder. "Oh, Mr. Flannigan! Right now sex is the LAST thing on me mind!"
Ok, so this three-legged pup walks into the Slap & Tickle the other evening and straight off tells Soubriquet, sitting there minding his own business - not drinking though - and tells him matter-of-factly, "You look like the man that shot my paw!" (See, Soubriquet took a shot at Max not long ago. It was a long shot, but...)