I'm sure this will be considered politicall incorrect by some, and
really wind up some of the too tight people. I don't care, because if
you've got a sense of humor, you'll still find it funny.
Paddy had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day and most of the
night celebrating Ireland's draw with Germany. Mick, the bartender,
says, "You'll not be drinking anymore tonight, Paddy" Paddy replies "OK
Mick, I'll be on my way then."
Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his
face. "Shoite," he says, and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts
himself off. He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his
face. "Shoite, Shoite!" He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself
that if he can just get to the door and some fresh air he'll be fine. He
belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame.
He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels
much better and takes a step out on to the sidewalk. He falls flat on
his face. "Bi'Jesus... I'm fockin' focked," he says. He can see his
house just a few doors down, and crawled to the door and shimmies up the
door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a look up the
stairs and says "No fockin' way." He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom
door and says, "I can make it to the bed." He takes a step into the room
and falls flat on his face. "Fock it," he says and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of
coffee and says, "Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?"
Paddy says, "I did Jess. I was fockin' pissed. But how'd you know?" Mick
"You left your wheelchair at the pub"
Reality is not mandatory, it's just an option.