So a Pessimist and a Fatalist Walk into a Bar…

So a Pessimist and a Fatalist Walk into a Bar…

They belly up. The pessimist says to the fatalist, “I’ll buy this round. What’re you having?” The fatalist points to one of the regulars to his right, says, “Give me what Bob’s having. It’ll probably kill me.” The pessimist nods, says, “Well, eventually. Make that two.”


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