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Girls Night Out

The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls."
I promised my husband that I would be home by midnight. Well, the
hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy.

Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in
the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed
three times. Quickly realizing my husband would probably wake up, I
cuckooed another nine times. I was really proud of myself for coming
up with
such a quick-witted solution, in order to escape a possible conflict
with him.

(Even when totally smashed, three cuckoos plus nine cuckoos
totals 12 cuckoos = MIDNIGHT!)
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I
him " Midnight." He didn't seem pissed off at all.
Whew! Got Away with that one!

Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock."
When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock
cuckooed three times, then said, 'Oh. Shit,' cuckooed four more
cleared it's throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed
more, and then tripped Over the coffee table and farted."
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