Thursday, March 30, 2006

Love the Irish!

Into a Killarney pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp.
"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.
"Jamie O'Connor and me had a fight," says Paddy.
"Ah, the little shit, O'Connor," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."
"That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it."
"Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you have something in your hand?"
"That I did," said Paddy... "Mrs. O'Connor's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."
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An Dubliner who had a little too much to drink is driving home from the city one night and, of course, his car is weaving violently all over the road. A cop pulls him over. "So," says the cop to the driver, where have ya been?"
"Why, I've been to the pub of course," slurs the drunk.
"Well," says the cop, "it looks like you've had a few pints this fine evening."
"I did all right," the drunk says with a smile.
"Well, did you know," says the cop, standing straight and folding his arms across his chest, "that a few intersections back, your wife fell out of your car?"
"Oh, thank heavens," sighs the drunk. " I thought I'd gone deaf."
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Brenda O'Malley is home making dinner, as usual, when Tim Finnegan arrives at her door. "Brenda, may I come in?" he asks. "I've somethin' to tell ya".
"Of course you can come in, you're always welcome, Tim, but where's my husband?"
"That's what I'm here to be telling ya, Brenda. There was an accident at the Guinness brewery..."
"Oh, God no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me."
"I must, Brenda. Your husband Seamus is dead and gone. I'm sorry."
Brenda commenced to wail and weep and call on all the saints. Finally, she looked at Tim and asked, "How did it happen, Tim?"
"It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of Guinness Stout and drowned."
"Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go quickly?"
"Well, Brenda... no, I can't lie about it to ya. He climbed out three times to pee"
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Mary Clancy goes up to Father McGuire after his Sunday morning service, and she's in tears. He says, "So what's troublin' you, Mary my dear?"
She says, "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news. Me own husband passed away last night."
The priest says, "Oh, Mary, I'm sad for it. Tell me, did he have any last requests?"
She says, "That he did, Father, that he did."
The priest says, "And for what did he ask, Mary? "

"Oh, Father, she says, "He said, 'Please Mary, put down that damn gun'. "

Tip o' the hat to Randy Taylor.

1 Comments:

Anonymous shoe said...

saw reckless kelly last week and thought of you. the austin deadline is today, so if you are coming, book your room pronto!!

12:01 PM  

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