Siamese twins walk into a bar in Toronto and park themselves on a bar stool.
One of them says to the bartender, don't mind us; as you can see, we're joined side by side at the hip. I'm John, he's Tim. Two Molson Canadian draft beers, please.
The bartender, feeling slightly awkward, tries to make polite conversation while pouring the beers. Been on vacation yet, boys? the barkeep asks.
Off to England next month, says John, we go to England every year, rent a car and drive for miles. Don't we, Tim?
Ah, England . . . says the bartender. What wonderful country . . . the history, the beer, the culture.
Nah, we don't like any of that British stuff, says John.
Hamburgers and Molson's beer, that's us, eh Tim and we can't stand the English - they're so arrogant and rude, their food is bland, their beer tastes like warm cat piss, and their women are ugly.
The bartender asks: Then why keep going to England ???
John replies, It's the only chance Tim gets to drive.
(I didn't see that coming . .