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A grizzled old merchant marine is riding a crowded city bus. A punked up teen gets on the bus carrying a large loud boom box. The punk has a multi-colored Mohawk and a colored feather hanging from his right ear. His face, chest, and arms are covered with tattoos. He sits down just across from the old sailor. The old sailor sets his gaze on the young punk and continues to look at him.
The punk yells at the sailor, “What are *you* staring at, Pops?”
The old sailor smiles and says, “I’ve been around the world, I’ve been to a lot of places, and I’ve done a few things I’m not particularly proud of. One night in Singapore after a two particularly rough months at sea, I got so damned stinking drunk that I fucked a parrot.”
At that point, a wide grin grew across the old sailor’s face, and he leaned forward and said to the punk, “And I was just wondering if perhaps you weren’t my son.”
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