Unique Jokes.com, A funny blog…

While the bar patron savored a double martini, an attractive
women sat down next to him. The bartender served her a glass
of orange juice, and the man turned to her and said, “This is
a special day. I’m celebrating.”
“I’m celebrating, too,” she replied, clinking glasses with him.
“What are you celebrating?” he asked.
“For years I’ve been trying to have a child,” she answered,
“Today my gynecologist told me I’m pregnant!”
“Congratulations,” the man said, lifting his glass.
“As it happens, I’m a chicken farmer, and for years all my hens
were infertile. But today they’re finally fertile.”
“How did it happen?”
“I switched cocks.”
“What a coincidence,” she said, smiling.

Difficult words to say when you are drunk…

* Innovative

* Preliminary

* Proliferation

Impossible words to say when you are drunk…

* Thanks, but I don’t want sex

* No, I don’t want another drink

* No Kebab for me, thanks

* Sorry, but you are not quite good looking enough for me

* Good evening officer

Pat and Mike had been drinking buddies and friends for years.
After having a few drinks in a bar, Mike said to Pat “We have
been friends for years and years and if I should die before you
do would you do me a favor? Get the best bottle of Irish whiskey
you can find and pour it over my grave.” Pat replied, “I would
be glad to do that for you my old friend. But would you
mind if I passed it through my bladder first?”

A guy walks into a bar. He looks over only to see
George W. Bush and Colin Powell sitting on the
bar-stools next to him. He says, “Hey bartender! Is
that Bush and Powell?”

Bartender says, “Yep! That’s them.”

The guy turns to the two gentlemen and says, “What an
honor to see you here! What on earth are you doing here?”

Bush answers, “We’re planning WWIII.”

The guy says, “Mind if I ask what you’re going to do?”

Bush answers, “We’re going to kill 40 million Iraqi’s
and a bicycle repairman.”

The man says, “A bicycle repairman? Why a bicycle
repairman?”

Bush turns to Powell and slaps him on the arm and says,
“SEE! I told you no one would give a shit about 40
million Iraqis!”

Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Seamus, were stumbling
home from the pub late one night and found themselves
on the road which led past the old graveyard.

“Come have a look over here,” says Paddy, “It’s Michael
O’Grady’s grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe
old age of 87.” “That’s nothing”, says Sean, “here’s one
named Patrick O’Tool, it says here that he was 95 when he
died.” Just then, Seamus yells out, “Good God, here’s a
fella that got to be 145!”

“What was his name?” asks Paddy.
Seamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match to
see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims,
“Miles, from Dublin.