The Drunk Man

A man staggered home late after another evening with his drinking buddies.
Shoes in left hand to avoid waking his wife, he tiptoed as quietly as he could
toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom
step in the darkened entryway.

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 to suppress a yelp, the man sprung
up, pulled down his pants, and examined his lacerated and bleeding cheeks in
the mirror of a nearby darkened hallway, then managed to find a large full box
of Band-aids and proceeding to place a patch as best he could on each place he
saw blood.

After hiding the now almost empty box, he managed to shuffle and stumble his
way to bed.

In the morning, the man awoke with searing pain in head and butt and his wife
staring at him from across the room.

She said, "You were drunk again last night."

Forcing himself to ignore his agony, he looked meekly at her and replied,
"Now, hon, why would you say such a mean thing?"

"Well," she said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the 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 downstairs mirror!"

I hate you. I just read it in class and started laughing out loud. That was great.

zing! thats a good one

I hate you. I just read it in class and started laughing out loud. That was great.
:lol: just happened to me too.

This is why I only have internet at home, not at work.