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Thursday, March 19, 2009

#578 A Little St. Patrick's Day humor...


Thanks, Vern.

Six retired Irishmen were playing poker in O'Leary's apartment when Paddy Murphy loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at the table.

Showing respect for their fallen brother, the other
five continue playing standing up.

Michael O'Conner looks around and asks, "Oh, me boys, someone got's to
tell Paddy's wife.. Who will it be?"

They draw straws. Paul Gallagher picks the short one. They tell him to
be discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation any worse.

"Discreet??? I'm the most discreet Irishmen you'll ever meet. Discretion is me middle name. Leave it to me."

Gallagher goes over to Murphy's house and knocks on the door. Mrs.
Murphy answers, and asks what he wants. Gallagher declares, "Your husband just lost $500, and is afraid to come home."

"Tell him to drop dead!", says Murphy's wife.


"I'll go tell him." says Gallagher.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Into a Belfast 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'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy.

"That little O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he must
have had some thing 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'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty
it was; but useless in a fight."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An Irishman 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 quite a few to drink
this evening."

"I did all right," the drunk says with a smile..

"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. "for a minute there, I thought I'd
gone deaf."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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
down at the Guinness brewery"

"Oh, God no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me."

"I must, Brenda. Your husband Shamus is dead and gone. I'm sorry.

Finally, she looked up at Tim. "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. In fact, he got out three times to pee."

** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady after his Sunday morning service,
and she's in tears.

He says, "So what's bothering you, Mary my dear?"

She says, "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news.. My husband passed away
last night."

The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, Mary, did he have
any last requests?"

She says, "That he did, Father."

The priest says, "What did he ask, Mary?"

" She says, "He said, 'Please Mary, put down that damn gun...' "

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

AND THE BEST FOR LAST


A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional booth,
sits down, but says nothing.

The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention, but the drunk
continues to sit there.

Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall.

The drunk mumbles, "Ain't no use knockin, there's no paper on this side
either."


#578

4 comments:

Sandee (Comedy +) said...

Another great crop of St. Patrick's Day humor. Thanks for the laughs.

Have a terrific day. :)

Peter said...

Poor old St. Patrick, he and his day sure cop a pasting.

Skunkfeathers said...

Leave it to the Irish ;)

Merle said...

Dear Jack ~~ Great jokes here. Thanks for the chuckles. Take care, Regards, Merle.