A fellow walks into a pub near Buckingham Palace in London, sits down, and says, "Give me a beer. I've had a rough day at work."
And the bartender says, "Oh? What do you do?"
The guy says, "I take care of the corgis--you know, the dogs the royal family owns."
The bartender asks, "Tough job, huh?
The guy says, "Yeah. All that inbreeding has led to low intelligence and bad temperaments. And the dogs aren't too smart, either."
And the bartender says, "Oh? What do you do?"
The guy says, "I take care of the corgis--you know, the dogs the royal family owns."
The bartender asks, "Tough job, huh?
The guy says, "Yeah. All that inbreeding has led to low intelligence and bad temperaments. And the dogs aren't too smart, either."
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