Signs You Have A Drinking Problem

You lose arguments with inanimate objects.

You have to hold onto the lawn to keep from falling off the earth.

Job interfering with your drinking.

Your doctor finds traces of blood in your alcohol stream.

Career won’t progress beyond Senator from Massachusetts.

The back of your head keeps getting hit by the toilet seat.

Sincerely believe alcohol to be the elusive 5th food group.

24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case. Coincidence?? I think not!

Two hands and just one mouth … now THAT’S a drinking problem!

You can focus better with one eye closed.

The parking lot seems to have moved while you were in the bar.

Every person you see has an exact twin.

You fall off the floor.

Your twin sons are named Barley and Hops.

Hey, 5 beers has just as many calories as a burger — to heck with dinner!

The glass keeps missing your mouth.

Bill Clinton starts to make sense….

Mosquitoes catch a buzz* after biting you. (*No pun intended.)

At AA meeting you begin: “Hi, my name is … uh …”

Your idea of cutting back is less salt.

The whole bar says ‘Hi’ when you come in.

“Hi ocifer. I’m not under the affluence of incohol.”

Roseanne looks good.

Don’t recognize wife unless seen through bottom of glass.

Senators Kennedy and Packwood shake their heads when they walk past you.

You have a reserved parking space at the liquor store.

You wake up in Korea in August and the last thing you remember is the Fourth of July party at the Halekulani in Waikiki.

“BeerTender! Get me another Bar!”

The shrubbery’s drunk too — from frequent watering.

She’s Smoking

Two young couples marry the same day and, being all friends, leave together for honeymoon to stay at the same Hotel in Venice, door to door.

The next morning, the two brand new husbands step out on their balconies to have a breath of fresh air.

“So? How was it going last night? C’mon, tell me! How’s your wife?”
“Uhh, fine I guess, she’s lying on the bed smoking.”
“Jesus! My wife just got a bit sore…”

Blonde Painting a Porch

A blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as a
handyman-type and started canvassing a wealthy neighborhood. She went to the
front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any jobs for her to
do. “Well, you can paint my porch. How much will you charge?”
The blonde said, “How about 50 dollars?” The man agreed and told her that the
paint and ladders that she might need were in the garage. A short time later,
the blonde came to the door to collect her money.
“You’re finished already?” he asked.
“Yes,” the blonde answered, “and I had paint left over, so I gave it two
coats.” Impressed, the man reached in his pocket for the $50.
“And by the way,” the blonde added, “that’s not a Porch, it’s a Ferrari.”

The police officer’s Christmas

Twas the night before Christmasand throughout the substation,Not a deputy stirred,they were all on vacation. The stockings were hungon the wall with great care,Next to some T-shirtsand old underwear. I was working the night shiftcompiling stats,Answering the phone,and feeding the rat. When all of a suddenthere arose such a clatter,I leapt from my deskto see what was the matter! I opened the doorwith a creak and a crick,And saw a jolly red fat manI knew must be St. Nick. I had seen his picturea time or two,He was wanted:Article 27 – Section 342. I threw open the doorand commanded him “Freeze!””Put your hands on you headand get down on your knees.” But he turned and he ran,up the chimney he flew,With me in pursuit,toward Booth St. I knew. When we got to the roofSanta made for his sleigh,Throwing down toysand blocking my way. As I got to the peak,he threw down some crack,I slipped and I felllanding flat on my back. To my front I was facedwith a toy M-1 tank,And Pink Power Rangerscovering my flank. “On Dasher, on Dancer!”,he cried loud and clear.Then I got off three roundsand dropped the lead deer. And I heard Santa sayas he sailed into the blue,”Merry Christmas to all!My Lawyers will sue!”

The Top 15 Signs It’s Time to Abandon Your Space Station

15. Breakfast, lunch & dinner, every day — Van DeCamp’s Pork-and-Beans-in-a-tube.

14. “Dear Dmitri: We at Mutual of Kazakhstan regret to inform you of the cancellation of your insurance policy…”

13. Ship’s computer calmly says, “I don’t know what air leak you’re talking about, Comrade Dave.”

12. The Benetton and the Starbucks were bad enough, but that new yuppie cigar bar is really stinkin’ up the place.

11. Ever since Joel left the show, it just hasn’t been as funny.

10. Latest addition to the onboard crew? Some French guy who brought 200 cartons of cigarettes.

9. Mission Control announces they’re going to attempt a tricky docking maneuver with the Space Shuttle Kevorkian.

8. Space station’s warranty expired 3,834,621 miles ago.

7. Tang and Stoli screwdrivers have lost their kick.

6. The damage is repairable, but ever since the collision, “Comrade Wussky” has been shrieking nonstop.

5. After several days of low oxygen, you’re starting to give serious consideration to Cosmonaut Andrei’s offer to join the “Hundred Mile High” club.

4. It’s down to just you and Sigourney Weaver.

3. Old ladies swatting at you with rakes from their roof tops.

2. Spice Girls on the holodeck.

1. That last little collision not only set off the emergency warning, it ruined the last of your clean boxer shorts.

Bad Dog

A blind man was waiting to cross the road when his guide dog peed on his leg. He reached into his pocket and took out a biscuit for the dog. A passer-by, who had seen everything remarked, “That’s very tolerant of you after what he just did.”

“Not really,” came the reply. “I’m just finding out where his mouth is, so I can kick him in the nuts.”