Shortly after I got married, I was invited out for a night out with the boys.
I told the wife that I would be home by midnight...
Well, the yarns were being spun and the grog was going down easy, and at around 3 AM, drunk as a skunk, I went home.
Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock started, and cuckooed 3 times.
Quickly I realized she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times.
I was really proud of myself for having the presence of mind, even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict.
Next morning the wife asked me what time I got in. I told her 12 o'clock.
Whew! Got away with that one!
Then she told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock.
When I asked why, she said, "Well, it cuckooed 3 times, cuckooed another 4 times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, farted, then cuckooed twice more and started giggling."
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