A 12-year-old walks into a bar.
The bartender says, “Kid, what are you doing?”
The 12-year-old says, “Tough day. Give me a shot of Jameson.” The bartender can’t believe it. The kid adds, “And leave the bottle.”
“Beat it, kid.”
“Why? I’m 27.”
“Yeah, and I’m a 6’8” Pygmy,” the bartender says.
The kid starts moaning about how he just bombed a test, hates his gym teacher and has all these chores at home. “Man, it’s rough. I feel like I’m 27, maybe 28.” The kid shakes his head, “Dog years, man, I’m talking dog years.”
The bartender motions with his thumb, outta here.
The kid ignores this and climbs onto the barstool. He says his grandfather runs marathons and always says, “Age is just a number. Make it a double.”