There were a Texan, a Californian, and a Montanan camping in the woods.

By the campfire after dark, the Texan opened up a bottle of Yukon Jack, took a swig, threw the bottle in the air, pulled out a double barrel shotgun, and blew the bottles to pieces.

The Montanan looked at him and said, "Why didn't you finish it?"

The Texan replied, "It's okay: we've got plenty of Yukon Jack where I come from."

The Californian then pulled out a bottle of Cabernet, took a sip, then threw the rest in the air, pulled out a .38 special and shot the bottle. He then looked around and said, "That's okay: we've got plenty more in California."

The Montanan then pulled out a bottle of Moose Drool, drank it all down, tossed the empty bottle in the air, pulled out a pistol, shot the Californian, and caught the bottle. He then looked over at the Texan and said, "It's okay: we've got plenty of Californians in Montana but I have to recycle the bottle."

[I know this is not a true story, because no Californian would know how to camp in the woods.]

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