Three guys go into a bar: a guy from Dallas, a guy from San Francisco, and a guy from Boulder. They drank and got a little rowdy. Suddenly, completely without warning, the Texan grabbed a bottle of tequila, unscrewed the top, took a good swig, and threw the bottle into the air. He then jerked a Colt .45 pistol out of his pocket and shot the bottle, spraying tequila all over everything and everybody.
The patrons at the bar shouted, “Hey, bud, why’d you waste that tequila?”
The Texan said, “Heck, it’s just tequila. Us Texans go across the border all the time and get all the tequila we want.”
Not to be outdone, the Californian whipped out a corkscrew and uncorked a bottle of wine. He poured some into a glass, swirled it, sniffed, commented on the tart insolence of its bouquet, sipped, tossed the bottle in the air, nicked it with a round from a silly little chrome-plated pistol, and showered a couple of patrons at the bar with wine.
The patrons, upset by the casual waste and general lack of concern for their safety, expressed their displeasure and astonishment, to which the Californian replied, “Well, I’m from Napa Valley, and we have more than enough wine where I come from.”
The Boulderite, a quiet observer up to this point, touched the crystal hanging from his neck, adjusted his Birkenstocks, flipped back his ponytail, put down his guitar, and borrowed a bottle opener from the bartender. He popped the top off a bottle of Fat Tire beer, hammered it back, threw the empty bottle into the air, pulled a 9mm Beretta, took careful aim, shot both the Californian and the Texan, and caught the falling bottle.
The patrons screamed in utter disbelief, “Why’d you do that?”
The Boulderite replied, “I’m from Colorado. We’ve already got too many Texans and way too many Californians, but glass bottles, now those can be recycled!”