A panda lumbers into The Quays pub in the Temple Bar district of Dublin, just off the Liffey River and behind the Ireland International News Agency. The bulky animal sits down, orders a deliciously foaming pint of stout and a full meal. It sits back in its chair, listening to Mickey Finnegan in the upstairs lounge playing the "Bearhaven Lassies" on his concertina. After this wonderfully leisurely supper and delightful musical interlude, the panda gets slowly up out of his chair. From it's pocket, the animal pulls out a water pistol and begins squirting it all over the place as the patrons look on in amazement. The stream breaks glasses, hits a mirror, shatters some plates, and cracks the front window. The panda then strolls out the door, flipping some pound notes on the table to pay for its dinner. Diarmaid, the pub keeper, roars out, "Hey, panda. What's the big idea!" Hiself, of course, is quite incensed at having to clean up the mess.
Your man, the panda, turns and looks at Diarmaid and coolly says, "Look it up."
Being the literary sort, as are all Dublin publicans, Diarmaid pulls out his dictionary- which he just happens to ave tucked behind the ornate bar. Putting on his glasses he reads, "A panda is a small, white and black bear-like animal native to the Himalayas. A giant panda can be up to six feet long."
But the dictionary's kicker line was, "It eats shoots and leaves."
@BrobyDDark
Stop it.
Death is a preferable alternative to Pepe.
Anything is a preferable alternative to Pepe.
<Snipped quote by Keyguyperson>
agreed