A man walks into a downtown bar, approaches the bartender and states that he is an expert on fine scotch whiskey, and he would like a shot of 20 y/o scotch. The bartender looks around and below the bar, finds a bottle of 8 y/o, and figures the patron will not know the difference. He pours the man a shot, he takes a sip and promptly spits it out and states, that is eight y/o scotch, I told you I wanted 20. The bartender goes in the back room, dusts off a few bottles, and finds some finds what the customer wants. He pours the man a shot, he drinks it and says that is real 20 y/o scotch, I'll have another, he drinks a second and says thank you very much. As the patron is leaving, a local drunk, who has been observing all of this, says, heh buddy, try this. The drunk produces a fine silver flask and hands it to the expert. He takes a swig, spits it out and exclaims, that's urine, the drunk says, ya, I know , But how old am I?
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