A very inebriated lady walked into a bar shortly before closing time, sat at the bar and ordered, “Barbender, barbender, I would like a Martoutsy.”
The bartender brought her a Martini, which she drank in one gulp.
“Barbender, I would like another Martoutsy.” Again, the bartender brought her a Martini.
By this time the lady was leaning heavily forward, barely able to hang on. She called, “Barbender, your Martoutsys are giving me heartburn.”
Patiently, the bartender came near her and said, “Lady, I am not a barbender, but a bartender, and what you have been drinking is not a Martoutsy, but a Martini, and finally, you do not have heartburn — your tit is hanging in the ashtray.”
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