Years ago in a coal mining town in upstate Pennsylvania, the mayor who was a staunch Irishman who liked his beer. He liked to do much of his politicking in the numerous bars in town on Friday and Saturday nights. After one particularly long session, he stumbled out of a barroom and couldn't keep down the beers any longer, and threw up all over the front of his suit.
The next morning, he realized he needed to come up with a story when his wife found the soiled clothing. He came down into the kitchen and began spinning his tale... "Me and the lads were coming out of Donahue's bar last evenin' when we were accosted by a few ruffians carryin' their drunken friend down the street, and behold, the drunkard threw up all over me. Well, I told him I'd have none of this behavior in my town, and he'll be appearin' in front of me come Monday morning. He'll be sitting in the pokey for two days fer public drunkenness, that's what he'll be doing."
The wife listened silently to the entire story, then replied, "Only two days? Why, I think that's much too lenient a sentence. I'd give him a week- fer not only did he throw up on the front of yer suit, it appears he **** in yer drawers as well."


