Barroom jokes

Marge was in bed with a man (not her husband). All of a sudden, they heard a noise downstairs. "Oh, my God, your husband is home! What am I going to do?"

"Just stay in bed with me. He's probably so drunk, he ain't gonna notice you here with me." The fear of getting caught trying to escape was more powerful than the thought of getting caught in bed with Marge, so he trusted her advice. Sure enough, Marge's husband came crawling into bed and as he pulled the covers over him, he pulled the blankets, exposing six feet.

"Honey!" he yelled. "What the hell is going on? I see six feet at the end of the bed!"

"Dear, you're so drunk, you can't count. If you don't believe me, count them again."

The husband got out of bed, and counted. "One, two, three, four... By gosh, you're right, dear!"

Two guys are drinking together, when one of them throws up all over himself. "Christ!" he says, "My wife ish going to kill me."

His friend puts his arm around his shoulder and offers him 20 dollars. "Don't worry," he says, "I'm your besht friend - give her thish and tell her that I chucked up on your jacket, and that I gave you thish money to get it cleaned."

"Fantashtic," says the first guy. "You're amashing, really the besht."

Arriving home, the poor guy's wife opens the door. "Where the hell have you been, look at the state of you..." she kicks off.

Quickly he replies, "Look love, it's not really my fault. Jack threw up all over me, but you know he's really a nice guy 'cos he gave me 20 bucks to get my jacket cleaned..."

"But there are 40 dollars here," she replies.

"Oh, yeh, I forgot to tell you," he says, "Jack shat in my trousers as well."

Is there a mirror in your pocket? Because I can definitely see myself in your pants tonight.

A lady walks into a bar and says,' Barkeep, gimme a martooni.' The bartender goes back and fixes her a martini. She downs it and says, 'Barkeep, gimme another martooni.' So he goes back and fixes her another martini. She downs that, and just sits there and doesn't say anything. Finally after about 10 minutes bartender says,' Would you like another?' She says,' Oh, no, I got this terrible heartburn.'

The bartender says, 'Okay, there are three things wrong here:
Number 1: It's martini, not martooni.
Number 2: It's bartender, not barkeep, and
Number 3: You're not having heartburn, your boob's in the ash tray.'