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Sean
had been drinking at his local pub all day and most of the night.
Mick, the bartender says "You'll not be drinking anymore tonight,
Sean". Sean replies "OK Mick, I'll be on my way then."
Sean spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his
face. "Shit" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and
dusts himself off. He takes a step towards the door and falls flat
on his face. He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if
he can just get to the door and get some fresh air he'll be fine.
He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up the door jamb. He sticks
his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air. He feels much
better and takes a step out onto the sidewalk. He falls flat on his
face. "I'm fookin locked" he says. He can see his house
just a few doors down, and crawls to the door and shimmies up the
door jamb, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a look up
the stairs and says "No fookin way." He crawls up the stairs
to his bedroom door and says "I can make it to the bed."
He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face. He says
"Fook it" and crawls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Mary, comes into the room carrying a cup
of coffee and says "Get up Sean. Did you have a bit to drink
last night?" Sean says "I did Mary. I was fookin locked.
But how'd you know?" She answered "Mick called. You left
your wheelchair at the pub."