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So the bartender brings him three pints and the man proceeds to alternately sip one, then the other, then the third until they're gone.
He then orders three more and the bartender says, "Sir, I know you like them cold, so you can start with one and I'll bring you a fresh one as soon as you're low."
The man says, "You don't understand. I have two brothers, one in Australia and one in the States. We made a vow to each other that every Saturday night we'd still drink together. So right now, my brothers have three Guinness Stouts too and we're drinking together."
The bartender thinks it's a wonderful tradition and every week he sets up the guy's three beers as soon as he enters in the bar. Then one week, the man comes in and orders only two. He drinks them, then orders two more. The bartender sadly says, "Knowing your tradition, I'd just like to just say that I'm sorry that one of your brothers died."
The man replies, "Oh, my brothers are fine - I just quit drinking."
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An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scotsman go into a pub and each order a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and land in each of the pints. The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another pint. The Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow. The Irishman reaches into the glass, pinches the fly between his fingers and shakes him while yelling, "Spit it out, ya bastard! Spit it out!"
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