A couple of quickies for you today:
One day, after his weekly game of golf, Ralph bought a flask of fine whiskey from the club, put it in his pocket and while walking home, stumbled and fell.
After getting up and brushing himself off, he felt something wet running down his pants.
He looked up at the sky and said, ‘Oh, Lord please, I beg you, let it be blood!’
A golf club barman, who was rather stingy while pouring out the whiskey, was giving Ralph a drink.
As he handed Ralph his glass, the barman said it was extra good whiskey, being 14 years old and all.
‘Well, sir,’ said Ralph regarding his glass sorrowfully, ‘it’s very small for its age . . .’