The Roadblock
One day, two rednecks named Bubba and Earl were driving down the road, drinking a couple of Buds. The passenger, Bubba, said, "Looky thar up ahead Earl. It's a po-leece roadblock.
We're gonna get busted fer drinkin' these here beers!"
"Don't worry Bubba," Earl said. "We'll just pull over and finish drinkin' these beers, peel off the label and stick it on our foreheads, then throw the bottles under the seat."
"What fer?" asked Bubba.
"Just let me do the talking, okay?" said Earl.
They finished their beers, threw the empty bottles under the seat and slapped the labels on their foreheads.
When they reached the roadblock, the sheriff said, "Have you boys been drinking?" "No sir." said Earl. "We're on the patch."
One day, two rednecks named Bubba and Earl were driving down the road, drinking a couple of Buds. The passenger, Bubba, said, "Looky thar up ahead Earl. It's a po-leece roadblock.
We're gonna get busted fer drinkin' these here beers!"
"Don't worry Bubba," Earl said. "We'll just pull over and finish drinkin' these beers, peel off the label and stick it on our foreheads, then throw the bottles under the seat."
"What fer?" asked Bubba.
"Just let me do the talking, okay?" said Earl.
They finished their beers, threw the empty bottles under the seat and slapped the labels on their foreheads.
When they reached the roadblock, the sheriff said, "Have you boys been drinking?" "No sir." said Earl. "We're on the patch."
