That wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had couple of empty pint
bottles in his
back pockets, and they broke, and the broken glass carved up his buttocks terribly. But,
he was so drunk that he didn't know he was hurt. A few minutes later, as he was
undressing, he noticed blood, so he checked himself out in the mirror, and, sure
enough, his behind was cut up something terrible. Well, he repaired the damage as
best he could under the circumstances, and he went to bed.
The next morning, his head was hurting, and his rear was hurting, and
hunkering under the covers trying to think up some good story, when his wife came into
"Well, you really tied one on last night," she said. "Where'd you go?"
"I worked late," he said, "and I stopped off for a couple of beers."
"A couple of beers? That's a laugh," she replied. "You got plastered
last night. Where
the heck did you go?"
"What makes you so sure I got drunk last night, anyway?"
"Well," she replied, "my first big clue was when I got up this morning
and found a bunch
of band-aids stuck to the mirror.
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