Bad day.

[Keith Dean]

There I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when a great huge, trouble-making skinhead steps up next to me, grabs my drink and gulps it down in one swig.

"Well, whatcha' gonna do about it?" he says, menacingly, as I burst into tears.

"Come on, you poof," the skinhead says, "I didn't think you'd CRY. I can`t stand seeing a man cry.”

"This is the worst day of my life," I say. "I'm a complete failure. I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me. When I went to the car park, I found my car had been stolen and I don't have any insurance. I left my wallet in the taxi I took home. I found my wife in bed with another man and then my dog bit me."

"So I came to this pub to work up the courage to put an end to it all, I buy a drink, I drop a cyanide capsule in and sit here watching the poison dissolve; then you show up and drink the whole thing! But enough about me, how's your day going?"