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Three guys go into a bar: a Texan, a guy from California, and a guy from Boulder. They drink and get a little rowdy.
Suddenly, completely without warning, the Texan grabs a bottle of tequila, unscrews the top, takes a good swig, and throws the bottle into the air. He then jerks a Colt .45 pistol out of his pocket and shoots the bottle, spraying tequila all over everything and everybody.
The patrons at the bar shout, "Hey, bud, why'd you waste that tequila?" The Texan says, "Heck, it's just tequila. Us Texans go across the border all the time and get all the tequila we want."
Not to be outdone, the Californian whips out a corkscrew and uncorks a bottle of wine. He pours a little of it into a glass, swirls it, sniffs it, comments on the tart insolence of its bouquet, sips it, tosses the bottle in the air, nicks it with a round from a silly little chrome-plated pistol, and showers a couple of patrons at the bar with wine.
The patrons, upset by the casual waste and general lack of concern for their safety, express their displeasure and astonishment, to which the Californian replies, "Well, I'm from Napa Valley, and we have more than enough wine where I come from."
The Boulderite, a quiet observer to this point, touches the crystal hanging from his neck, adjusts his Birkenstocks, flips back his ponytail, puts down his guitar, and borrows a bottle opener from the bartender. He pops the top off a bottle of Fat Tire beer, hammers it back, throws the empty bottle into the air, pulls out a 9mm Beretta, takes careful aim, shoots both the Californian and the Texan, and catches the falling bottle.
The patrons scream in utter disbelief, "Why'd you do that?" The Boulderite replies, "We've already got too many Texans and WAY too many Californians—but glass bottles, now those can be recycled."