Since I am in Boston today and am probably very busy catching up with my friends while drinking more mimosas than is even remotely healthy, I’m just going to go with a joke for today’s post. I personally think it’s hilarious; if you don’t, I won’t hate you but we might not ever be really good friends. Here goes.
A guy and a giraffe walk into a bar. They sit down and order a beer and a shot of whiskey each. They knock back the shot, chug the beer, and then order another round.
They do this four or five more times. The giraffe is getting steadily wobblier and wobblier on his bar stool; his freaky long legs are just splaying all over the place. Finally as the bartender watches, he teeters one way, totters the other way, then finally falls over backward and lies on the floor, twitching slightly.
The guy who’s with him looks back at him, then gets up off his stool, throws some money on the counter, and starts drunkenly stumbling to the door.
“Hey!” yells the bartender. “You can’t just leave that lyin’ there!”
The guy looks back at the giraffe, then at the bartender, and slurs, “That’s not a lion, that’s a giraffe!”