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Keystone, who lives way out west where it hardly ever rains,
sent this one about a guy named Vern...
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Vern works hard at the telephone company but spends two nights
each week bowling, and plays golf every Saturday.

His wife thinks he's pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday
she takes him to a local strip club.

The doorman at the club greets them and says, "Hey, Vern! How
the heck ya' doin?"

His wife is puzzled and asks if he's been to this club before.

"Oh no," says Vern. "He's in my bowling league."

When they are seated, a waitress asks Vern if he'd like his usual
and brings over a Budweiser.

His wife is becoming increasingly uncomfortable and asks, "How
did she know that you drink Budweiser?"

"I recognize her, she's the waitress from the golf club. I always
have a Bud at the end of the first 9, honey."

A stripper then comes over to their table, throws her arms around
Vern, starts to rub herself all over him and says, "Hi Vern. Want your
usual table dance, big boy?"

Vern's wife, now furious, grabs her purse and storms out of the club.

Vern follows and spots her getting into a cab. Before she can slam the
door, he jumps in beside her.

Vern tries desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken
him for someone else, but his wife is having none of it

She is screaming at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every four
letter word in the book.

The cabby turns around and says, "Geez Vern! You picked yourself up
a real bltch this time."

VERN'S FUNERAL WILL BE HELD THIS COMING FRIDAY.
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