The other night a married woman was invited out for a night with

“the girls.“

She promised her husband that she would be home by midnight.

Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too

easy.

Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, the wife headed for home. Just as she

got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed

three times. Quickly realizing her husband would probably wake

up, she cuckooed another nine times. She was really proud of

herself 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 her husband asked her what time she got in, and

she told him “ Midnight.” He didn’t seem pissed off at all.

Then he said, “We need a new cuckoo clock.“

When she asked him why, he said, “Well, last night our clock

cuckooed three times, then said, ‘Oh. Shit,’ cuckooed four more

times, cleared it’s throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled,

cuckooed twice more, and then tripped Over the coffee table and

farted.“