Thursday, August 27, 2015


There  I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when  a large, trouble-making biker steps up next to   me,  grabs my drink and gulps it down in one  swig.  
"Well, what are you gonna do  about it?" he says, menacingly, as I burst into  tears.
"Come on, man," the biker  says, "I didn't think you'd CRY. I can't stand to  see a man crying."
"This is the worst day of my  life," I say. "I'm a complete failure. I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me.
When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen and I don't have any insurance. I left my wallet in the cab I took home. I found my wife with another man... and then my dog bit me.  
"So I came to this bar to work up the courage to put an end to it all.  I buy a drink, I drop a capsule in and sit here watching the poison dissolve; and then you show up and drink the whole damn thing!"
But, hell, enough about me.  
How are you doing?"

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