A handful of 7 year old children were asked, ‘what they thought of beer.’
Tim- ‘I think beer must be good. My dad says the more beer he drinks the prettier my mom gets.’
Melanie – ‘Beer makes my dad sleepy and we get to watch what we want on television when he is asleep, so beer is nice.’
Grady – ‘My Mom gets funny when she drinks it and takes her top off at parties.’
Toby – ‘My Mom and Dad talk funny when they drink beer and the more they drink the more they give kisses to each other, which is a good thing.’
Sarah – ‘My Dad gets funny on beer. He is funny. He also wets his pants sometimes, so he shouldn’t have too much.’
Lilly – ‘My Dad loves beer. The more he drinks, the better he dances. One time he danced right into the pool.’
Continue reading Thoughts on beer from 7 year old children
Sometimes women are so hard to figure out….
The wife left a note on the fridge: “It’s not working!!! I can’t take it anymore; I’ve gone to stay at my Moms!”
I opened the fridge, the light came on and the beer was cold.
Continue reading I don’t understand women
Mowed the lawn today, and after doing so I sat down and had a couple nice cold beers. The day was really quite beautiful, and the brew facilitated some deep thinking on various topics. Finally I thought about an age old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts?
Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts. Well, after another beer, and some heavy deductive thinking, I have come up with the answer to that question. Continue reading Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts?
Your car is Japanese.
Your Vodka is Russian.
Your pizza is Italian.
Your kebab is Turkish.
Your democracy is Greek.
Your coffee is Brazilian.
Your movies are American.
Your Beers are German.
Your shirt is Indian.
Your oil is Saudi Arabian.
Your electronics are Chinese.
Continue reading Neighbor is an immigrant
t’was the night before kwansa and all through the crib,
Not a white man was lurking, all present were splib.
With mom out there hooking and dad in the slam,
I just settled down with some collards and ham.
The house was just freezin and covered with snow,
as my brother pulled up in a care he dun stole.
Continue reading T’was the night before Kwansa