McGregor

A backpacker is traveling through Ireland when it starts to rain. He decides to wait out the storm in a nearby pub. The only other person at the bar is an older man staring at his drink.

After a few moments of silence the man turns to the backpacker and says in a thick Irish accent, “You see this bar? I built this bar with my own bare hands. I cut down every tree and made the lumber myself. I toiled away through the wind and cold, but do they call me McGregor the bar builder? Nay.”

He continued “Do you see that stone wall out there? I built that wall with my own bare hands. I found every stone and placed them just right through the rain and the mud, but do they call me McGregor the wall builder? Nay.”

“Do ya see that pier out there on the lake? I built that pier with my own bare hands, driving each piling deep into ground so that it would last a lifetime. Do they call me McGregor the pier builder? Nay.”

He takes another swig of his drink. “But ya fuck one goat…”