The other night I was invited out for a night with "The Boys". I told
my wife that I would be home by midnight promise! Well, the hours
passed
and the beer was going down way to easy. At around 3 a.m., drunk as a
skunk, headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in
the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times.

Quickly, I realized she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another nine
times. I was really proud of myself, having a quick and witty solution,
even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict.

The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in, and I told her 12
o'clock. She didn't seem disturbed at all. 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, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then
said "Oh shit," cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed
another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then farted."

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