A fellow decides to take off early from work and go
drinking.

He stays until the bar closes at 2am, at
which time he is extremely drunk.

When he enters his
house, he doesn't want to wake anyone, so he takes off
his shoes and starts tip-toeing up the stairs.

Half-way
up the stairs, he falls over backwards and lands flat
on his rear end.

That wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had
couple of empty pint bottles in his back pockets, and
they broke, and the broken glass carved up his buttocks
terribly.

But, he was so drunk that he didn't know he
was hurt.

A few minutes later, as he was undressing, he
noticed blood, so he checked himself out in the mirror,
and, sure enough, his behind was cut up something
terrible.

Well, he repaired the damage as best he could
under the circumstances, and he went to bed.

The next morning, his head was hurting, and his rear
was hurting, and he was hunkering under the covers
trying to think up some good story, when his wife came
into the bedroom.

"Well, you really tied one on last night," she said.
Where'd you go?"

"I worked late," he said, "and I stopped off for a
couple of beers."

"A couple of beers? That's a laugh," she replied. "You
got plastered last night. Where the heck did you go?"

"What makes you so sure I got drunk last night,
anyway?"

"Well," she replied, "my first big clue was when I got
up this morning and found a bunch of band-aids stuck to
the mirror."