Loz DeBetts, email

DURING the Great Depression, there was a man who walked into a bar one day. He went up to the bartender and said: “I’d like to buy the whole bar a round of drinks.”

“That’s fine,” the bartender replied, “but we’re in the middle of a depression, so I’ll need to see some money first.”

The man pulled out a huge wad of bills and set them on the bar. The bartender was amazed.

“Where did you get all that money?” he asked.

“I’m a professional gambler,” the man replied.

“There’s no such thing!” the bartender scoffed. “I mean, your odds are 50-50 at best, right?”

“Well, I only bet on sure things,” the man insisted.

“For example, I’ll bet you $50 I can bite my right eye.

The bartender thought about this for a minute and agreed.

So the man pulled out his glass eye, bit it, and put it back in its socket.

“Okay, you got me,” said the bartender ruefully, handing over the $50.

“I’ll give you another chance. I’ll bet you another $50 dollars that I can bite my left eye,” the man said.

The bartender thought about it for a minute and replied: “Well, I know you’re not blind, I watched you walk in here. I’ll take that bet.”

With that, the gambler pulled out his false teeth and bit his left eye.

“Man, you got me again!” the bartender moaned.

“I told you, I only bet on sure things,” the man replied. “I’ll take a bottle of your best scotch instead of the 50 bucks.”

So the professional gambler took his whisky and went to the back room to play cards with some of the locals. After many hours of drinking and cardplaying, he stumbled up to the bar, drunk as a skunk.

“Bartender, I’ll give you one lasht chansh. I’ll bet you $500 I can shtand on thish bar on one foot and pissh into that whisky bottle on that shelf behind you without shpilling a drop.”

Seeing that the man couldn’t even stand up straight on two feet, much less one, the bartender figured his luck was finally about to change. “Okay, you’re on.”

So the gambler climbed up on the bar, stood on one leg, and began pissing all over the place. He hit the bar, the bartender, himself, but not a drop made it into the whisky bottle.

The bartender was ecstatic. Laughing, he triumphantly roared: “Hey buddy, that’ll be $500 please!”

The man climbed down off the bar and replied: “That’sh okay. I jusht bet each of the guysh in the card room $1000 each that I could pissh all over you and the bar and shtill make you laugh!”