I don’t get it…
A Cards fan walks into a bar and says loudly, “Hey bartender, wanna hear a Cubs joke?”
The bartender eyes him coldly and says, “Buddy, you see that big ugly biker dude over at the pool table who’s watching you like a hawk? Well, he’s a Cubs fan. And you see that guy over there by the jukebox with the prison tattoos? Well, he’s a Cubs fan too, and he’d like to mess you up. And me? I’m a Cubs fan, and I keep a shotgun behind the bar just for fools like you. Now lemme ask you something, Mr. Cardinal. You still wanna tell that Cubs joke?”
The Cardinal fan looks around slowly, pauses, and says, “Nah, I don’t want to have to explain it three times.”
A Cards fan walks into a bar and says loudly, “Hey bartender, wanna hear a Cubs joke?”
The bartender eyes him coldly and says, “Buddy, you see that big ugly biker dude over at the pool table who’s watching you like a hawk? Well, he’s a Cubs fan. And you see that guy over there by the jukebox with the prison tattoos? Well, he’s a Cubs fan too, and he’d like to mess you up. And me? I’m a Cubs fan, and I keep a shotgun behind the bar just for fools like you. Now lemme ask you something, Mr. Cardinal. You still wanna tell that Cubs joke?”
The Cardinal fan looks around slowly, pauses, and says, “Nah, I don’t want to have to explain it three times.”
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