Drunk Jokes, Drinking Jokes, Alcohol Jokes, Alcoholic Jokes, Beer Jokes
A young Bolivian wants to have a proper fсuк for the first time in his life. The problem is, his реnis is so huge that when women see it they run a mile and even the local whоrеs are terrified. In desperation, he asks a friend for advice.
“Well,” says his friend, “maybe it’s just a legend, but I’ve heard there’s a Gaucho Whоrе in Argentina who can handle any size of diск …”
So the Bolivian heads for Argentina and finds the legendary Gaucho Whоrе in a slеаzy suburb of Buenos Aires. She takes a look at his enormous diск and says, dryly, “No problem. I can handle that.”
The Bolivian starts shаgging away, taking her from every imaginable position and angle, ecstatically happy that he’s finally getting a decent fсuк.
Suddenly the Gaucho Whоrе says, “What? Is that it? I can’t feel anything. Go on, stick it in and get started for god’s sake!”
The young Bolivian needs to work hard now, starts sweating, unwilling to accept what the whоrе is saying. After a while, he decides to stick his foot in.
“Are you taking the рiss, sonny?” says the Gaucho Whоrе. “Either you want to fсuк or you can fсuк off right now!”
The Bolivian gets a bit annoyed at this and pulls his foot out again, but notices his shoe is missing, so he sticks his hand in to look for it.
He searches and searches, getting more and more desperate. Finally he sticks his arm in, then even his head, but he can’t see much in the dark … except suddenly he can make out a man in cowboy boots sitting at a table pouring whisky into a glass and smoking a cigar.
“What the fсuк are you doing here?” says the Bolivian. ” I seem to have lost my shoe. Have you seen it by any chance?”
“Your shoe? Sorry, no,” says the cowboy. “Actually, I’m looking for something myself. Seen a horse by any chance?”
Word got out in a old Western town that Black Bart escaped from Jail and was heading that way. The townsfolk gathered in the saloon to discuss what to do next since the sheriff was out of town.
"How will we recognize him? It's been so long since anyone actually saw him and lived to tell about it," said the town's barber.
"I heard he could eat bullets and кill you by just spitting," said the hotel owner.
All of a sudden, a kid runs into the saloon and yells, "Someone's coming and I think it's Black Bart!"
Sure enough a huge 6 ft tall rugged, tough-looking, bearded, black clothed cowboy with an eye patch and a long scar down the left side of his face and huge muscular arms and chest came walking through the saloon doors. Only sound you could hear was his spurs as he walked up to the bar. No one dared to move or utter a sound; too frightened to move.
He looked around at all the townsfolk, hiding behind tables and chairs holding their breath. He walked up to the bar and took out his gun and banged it on the counter. The bartender yelped.
He yelled to the bartender hiding behind the counter, "Giт up and give me a whiskey!"
The bartender poured him a shot glass of whiskey. He took the glass, drank it down, then ate the shot glass. Two women fainted and the sound of teeth chattering could be heard behind the piano. The bartender nervously asked, "Would you like another glass sir?"
"Naw. I need to go. Hav'ta leave town," he said.
"You're leaving so soon?" the bartender asked, puzzled.
"Heck yeah! Didn't you hear? Black Bart's coming this way!"
INDIAN ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You worship them.
PAKISTAN ECONOMICS
You don’t have any cows.
You claim that the Indian cows belong to you.
You ask the US for financial aid, China for military aid, Britain for warplanes, Italy for machines, Germany for technology, France for submarines, Switzerland for loans, Russia for drugs and Japan for equipment. You buy the cows with all this and claim of exploitation by the world.
AMERICAN ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You sell one and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
You profess surprise when the соw drops dead. You put the blame on some nation with cows & naturally that nation will be a danger to mankind. You wage a war to save the world and grab the cows.
FRENCH ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
GERMAN ECONOMICS
You have two cows. You re-engineer them so that they live for 100 years, eat once a month and milk themselves.
BRITISH ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
They are both mad.
ITALIAN ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You don’t know where they are. You break for lunch.
SWISS ECONOMICS
You have 5000 cows, none of which belong to you.
You charge others for storing them.
JAPANESE ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You redesign them so that they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary соw and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create cute cartoon соw images called Cowkimon and market them worldwide.
RUSSIAN ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 17 cows.
You give up counting and open another bottle of vоdка.
CHINESE ECONOMICS
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim full employment, high bovine productivity and arrest anyone reporting the actual numbers.
SRI LANKAN ECONOMICS
You have a соw and a bull, you let the соw be president and the bull be prime minister and let them blame each other for the state the country is in.
Nicola Sturgeon is touring Perthshire in the First Minister’s chauffeur driven car.
Suddenly a соw jumps out into the road. They hit it full on and the car comes to a stop. Nicola in her usual jaunty manner, says to the chauffeur : ” You get out and check - you were driving.”
The chauffeur gets out, checks and reports that the animal is dead. ” You were driving, go and tell the farmer,” says Nicola, I can’t afford to be blamed for anything.
The chauffeur walks up the drive to the farmhouse and returns five hours later totally plastered, his hair ruffled and with a big grin on his face. ”
My God, what happened to you ?” asks Nicola.
The chauffeur replies : ” When I got there, the farmer opened his best bottle of malt whisky, the wife gave me a slap up meal and the daughter made love to me.”
” What on earth did you say?” asks Nicola.
I knocked on the door and when it was answered, I said to them, I’m Nicola Sturgeon’s chauffeur and I’ve just killed the соw.”
An Englishman, a German and a Frenchman are all in Saudi Arabia, sharing a smuggled crate of вооzе when, all of a sudden, Saudi police rush in and arrest them. The mere possession of alcohol is a severe offence in Saudi Arabia, so for the terrible сriме of actually being caught consuming the вооzе, they are all sentenced to death!
However, after many months and with the help of very good lawyers, they were able to successfully appeal their sentences down to life imprisonment. By a sтrоке of luck, it was a Saudi national holiday the day their trial finished, and the extremely benevolent Sheikh decided they could be released after receiving just 20 lashes each of the whip.
As they were preparing for their punishment, the Sheikh announced:
"It's my first wife's birthday today, and she has asked me to allow each of you one wish before your whipping.
The German was first in line, he thought for a while and then said:
"Please tie a pillow to my back. This was done, but the pillow only lasted 10 lashes before the whip went through. When the punishment was done the German had to be carried away bleeding and crying with pain.
The Frenchman was next up. After watching the German in horror he said smugly:
"Please fix two pillows to my back." But even two pillows could only take 15 lashes before the whip went through again and the Frenchman was soon led away whimpering loudly.
The Englishman was the last one up, but before he could say anything, the Sheikh turned to him and said:
"You are from a most beautiful part of the world and your culture is one of the finest in the world. For this, you may have two wishes!"
"Thank you, your Most Royal and Merciful highness," the Englishman replied. "In recognition of your kindness, my first wish is that you give me not 20, but 100 lashes."
"Not only are you an honorable, handsome and powerful man, you are also very brave," the Sheikh said with an admiring look on his face. "If 100 lashes is what you desire, then so be it. And your second wish, what is it to be?" the Sheikh asked.
The Englishman smiled and said, "Tie the Frenchman to my back."
In a saloon in the old West, a large crowd of cowboys was drinking and carousing with the dance hall girls. In walked a greenhorn Easterner, a dry goods supplier from New York. He sat down at the bar and ordered a вееr. Just then a boy ran in from outside through the swinging doors, completely out of breath. The crowd stopped what they were doing and stared at him.
“Big John’s in town,” the boy said, gasping.
In less than a minute, the entire crowd, except for the greenhorn, tumbling over one another, rushed out, including the bartender and everyone else who worked at the saloon, leaving the place completely empty and in disarray. The greenhorn realized that he should probably go, too. So he quickly downed the remainder of his вееr, grabbed ahold of his sample case and started for the door.
Unfortunately, before he could reach it, another cowboy walked in, blocking his way. The man was huge, almost seven feet tall and muscular, with a face that was menacing, rugged and scarred. Hanging from his belt were two large six-shooters that had obviously seen plenty of action. The Easterner, frozen in fear, stood glued to the spot, unable to speak.
The huge man, towering over him, then glared at the greenhorn and said in a, deep, gravelly voice, “You drink with me.”
The greenhorn saw this as an order, not an invitation. So he walked over with the man, his heart pounding, fearing for his life, then sat down at the bar next to the cowboy, who then proceeded to pour each of them a whiskey. The massive cowpoke quickly downed his drink, wiped his face with his sleeve then stood up and started walking towards the door.
“Can’t stay,” he said, “ Big John’s in town.”
A cowboy walked into a bar and ordered a whiskey. When the bartender delivered the drink, the cowboy asked, "Where is everybody?"
The bartender replied, "They've gone to the hanging."
"Hanging? Who are they hanging?"
"Brown Paper Pete," the bartender replied.
"What kind of a name is that?" the cowboy asked.
"Well," said the bartender, "he wears a brown paper hat, brown paper shirt, brown paper trousers and brown paper shoes."
"Weird guy," said the cowboy. "What are they hanging him for?"
"Rustling," said the bartender.