God walks into a pub...
(shameless c&p)
In 1967, the year Jimi Hendrix became the toast of London, a bartender at a working-class pub in Liverpool wasn't having any of it.

"Sorry, mates, we can't serve your sort in here," the crusty old barkeep told Hendrix and his bandmate, Noel Redding. "We got rules, you know."

Hendrix and Redding puzzled over the bartender's rebuff. Both musicians wore purple scarves around their necks and halos of frizzy hair. Hendrix was dressed in wine-red velvet trousers, a frilly pirate shirt, ancient British military jacket and black cape.

Hendrix wondered if he was being discriminated against because of his skin colour, though such problems were unusual at the time in England.

His second thought was that his military jacket, a relic of the glory days of the British Empire -- purchased at a flea market -- might be offensive to English war vets. It had given him problems before.

When pressed for an explanation, the bartender angrily pointed to a sign on the door.

"If we let one of you in, the whole goddamn place will be full of your sort, and that's no way to run a pub," he bellowed.

Redding collapsed in a fit of laughter after finding a circus poster on the pub door, with a note below it that read, "No Clowns Allowed."
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 13:38, 1 reply)

Damn!
I was thinking pirates....forgot to account for the hair :(
(Angie the Redneck Wonder, Sat 7 Feb 2009, 3:28, closed)