Three men were drinking at a bar -- a doctor, an attorney and a biker. As the doctor was drinking his white wine he said, "For her birthday, I'm going to buy my wife a fur coat and a diamond ring. This way, if she doesn't like the fur coat she will still love me because she got a diamond ring." As the attorney was drinking his martini he said, "For my wife's birthday, I'm going to buy her a designer dress and a gold bracelet. This way, if she doesn't like the dress she will still love me because she got the gold bracelet." As the biker was drinking his shots of whiskey he said, "I'm going to buy my wife a T-shirt and a vibrator. This way, if she doesn't like the T-shirt she can go fuck herself!"

The man looked around and saw the 3 big men sitting at a corner table. He got up, staggered to the table, leaned over, looked the biggest one in the face and said, "I went by your grandma's house and I saw her in the hallway, buck naked. Man, she is fine!"

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The biker looked at him and didn't say a word.

His buddies were confused, because he was a bad ass, and would fight at he drop of a hat. The drunk leaned on the table again and said, "I got it on with your grandma and she is good, the best I ever had!"

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The biker still said nothing. His buddies were starting to get mad.

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The drunk leaned on the table again and said, "I'll tell you something else boy, your grandma liked it!"

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The biker stood up, took the drunk by the shoulder and said, "Damn it, grandpa, you're drunk. Go home!"

A timid little man ventured into a biker bar in the Bronx and, upon clearing his throat, asked, "Um, err, which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied to the parking meter outside?"

A giant of a man wearing biker leathers with his body hair growing out of the seams turned slowly on his stool. He looked down at the quivering little man and said, "It's my dog. Why?"

"Well," squeaked the little man very nervously, "I believe my dog just killed it, sir."

"What?" roared the big man in disbelief. "What in the hell kind of dog do you have?"

"Sir," answered the little man, "It's a four-week-old puppy."

"Bull!" roared the biker, "How could your puppy kill my Doberman?"

"It appears that he choked on it, sir."

"Bartender! Get me a drink!" The bartender obliges, and the biker scarfs down the drink. Slamming the glass down on the bar, he growls:

"Bartender! Get me another!" The bartender pours him another drink. After a few more rounds, the bartender attempts some conversation:

"Sir, he says, it seems that you're visibly upset. What's the problem?" The biker looks at him and snorts:

"I just went home and caught my ol' lady screwing my best friend!"

"Oh man," says the bartender, that's rough... "What did you do?" The biker says:

"Well, I grabbed her by the hair, threw her out nekkid, threw her clothes out after her, and told her never EVER to come back."

"Wow," says the bartender in awe: "That's tough man, what did you do to your friend?"

"Well," says the biker, "I marched right back upstairs, I grabbed HIM by the scruff of the neck, and I said: BAD DOG."