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

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

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

That wouldn't havebeen so bad, except that he had couple of empty pint bottles in his backpockets, and they broke, and the broken glass carved up his buttocksterribly.

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 hechecked himself out in the mirror, and, sure enough, his behind was cutup something terrible.

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

The next morning, his head was hurting, and his rear was hurting, and hewas hunkering under the covers trying to think up some good story, whenhis 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 plasteredlast 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 morningand found a bunch of band-aids stuck to the mirror."