The Original Old Farts Club

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I remember the time I was in high school, and apparently my mother had tried to wake me up for school. I was zoned, like kids do. Next thing I know, the Old Man was cutting the blood outta my bare back and actually got in three hard swings before I woke up.

Fast forward 20 years and I hear the Old Hen fussing about how she couldn't get the kid awake for school. I told her I'd handle it. I went in and got a clean wash rag, ran warm water over it, and baby talked to her while I was washing her sweet little face. She woke up with a smile. End of the cycle of abuse, and it didn't take a lot of brain power to figure how to do it.
That reminds me of an evening at a bar in Paris, where an American tourist had passed out at the bar and they were having trouble rousing him. I asked for a cold wet towel, which I placed on the back of his neck and he shortly came too.

The funny part was that there was an ugly rode hard and put away wet hooker at the bar and when he came around, she kindly offered to help him make it to his room. One look at her and he couldn't get away fast enough.
 
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A man walks into a bar with his dog.

“This is a talking dog. If this dog can answer my questions, who will buy me a drink?” he asks.

“You can have one on the house,” the bartender says.

The man turns to his dog. “What goes on the top of a house?”

Dog: Roof.

Man: “What does tree bark feel like?”

Dog: Rough.

Man: “Who is the greatest baseball player ever?”

Dog: Ruth.

The bartender is clearly annoyed and snaps at the man. “That’s enough. You and your dog, get out.”

After the man and the dog are thrown out, the dog looks sadly at his owner. “Should I have said DiMaggio?”

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