A rope walks into a bar,

Has a seat and the bartender says to it, "Sorry, we don't serve your kind here."

The rope, upset, ties itself into a knot and separates its strands.

The bartender says, 'What are you doing? I told you we don't serve ropes here. You'll have to leave."

"I don't think so," says the rope, "I'm a frayed knot."

Barrum-cha!


[Bonus: A giraffe walks into a bar and yells, "The high balls are on me!"]

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