...walks into a bar
A string walks into a bar, hops on the bar stool, and says, "Bartender, gimme a beer." The bartender says, "I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here." Disappointed, the string hops down from the stool and goes to the next bar. He hops on the bar stool and says, again, "Bartender, gimme a beer." The bartender says, "I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here." The string continues down the row of bars in this fashion. At every bar, he hops on the barstool and says, "Bartender, gimme a beer." Each time, "I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here." Finally he gets to the last bar in the area. He's tired, he's sweaty, all he wants is a beer. He trudges inside, climbs on the barstool, and says, "Bartender, gimme a beer." The bartender says, "I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here." Pissed off, the string walks outside to think. He's a hard-working string. He deserves a beer. Finally, he comes up with an idea. He twists himself up and musses up his hair, then heads back into the bar. "Bartender, gimme a beer!" Bartender says, "Hey, aren't you that string that was in here a few minutes ago?" The string says, "Nope, I'm a frayed knot."
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Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed.
Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery
and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might
be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself,
"It is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than
be selfish and worry about my liver."
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