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Telling Time

Just after I got married, I was invited out for a night with “the boys.” I told my new bride that I would be home by midnight … promise!

Well, one tall tale led to another while everyone bought me drinks. Before I knew it, it was almost 3:00 a.m. Drunk as a skunk, I took a cab home.

Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock started, and cuckooed 3 times. Quickly I realized she’d probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself, having the quick wittedness — even when smashed — to escape a possible conflict.

Next morning, the misses asked me what time I got in. I told her 12 o’clock. Whew! Got away with that one!

She then told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why she said “Well, it cuckooed 3 times, said ‘dang it,’ cuckooed another 4 times, belched, cuckooed another 3 times, cleared its throat, and cuckooed twice and then giggled.”

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