[SOC] Happy St. Paddys Day

[bob baxter]

>
> At 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 sod, O'Conner," 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'Conner's breast, and a thing of
beauty
> it was, but useless in a fight."
>
> ********************************************
>
> Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Seamus, were stumbling home from the
pub
> late one night and found themselves on the road which led past the old
> graveyard.
>
> "Come have a look over here," says Paddy, "it's Michael O'Grady's
grave,
> God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87."
>
> "That's nothing," says Sean, "here's one named Patrick O'Tool, it says
> here that he was 95 when he died."
>
> Just then, Seamus yells out, "Good God, here's a fella that got to be
> 145!"
>
> "What was his name?" asks Paddy.
>
> Seamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match to see what
else is
>
> written on the stone marker, and exclaims, "Miles, from Dublin."
>
> ******************************************
> 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 Irishman, "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 tellin' 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 Seamus 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, no Brenda ... no. Fact is, he got out three times to pee."
>
> ****************************************
>
> A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional box,
sits
> down but says nothing.
>
> The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the drunk just
sits
>
> there. Finally, the Priest pounds three times on he wall.
>
> The drunk mumbles, "ain't no use knockin, there's no paper on this
side
> either."
>
> ******************************************
>
> Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady's 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, 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...'"