Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Irish Jokes
Time to celebrate St Patty's Day with a good laugh.
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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 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.'
************************************************************
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.'
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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.'
AN IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO
An attractive blonde from Cork, Ireland arrived at the casino. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty-thousand Euros on a single roll of the dice.
She said, 'I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude'..
With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, 'Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!'
As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed...'YES! YES! I WON, I WON!'
She hugged each of the dealers and then picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.
The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded.
Finally, one of them asked, 'What did she roll?'
The other answered,
'I don't know - I thought you were watching.'
MORAL OF THE STORY -
Not all Irish are drunks,
not all blondes are dumb,
but all men...are men
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Affair
For 2 years a man was having an affair with an Italian woman.
One night, she confided in him that she was pregnant. Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his marriage. He paid her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18.
She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born. To keep it discrete, he told her to simply mail him a post card, and write 'Spaghetti' on the back. He would then arrange for the child support payments to begin.
One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife.
'Honey!,' she said, 'you received a very strange post card today.'
'Oh, just give it to me and I'll explain it later,' he said. The wife obeyed and watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted.
On the card was written:
Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti
Three with meatballs, two without.
Send extra sauce.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Tax Auditor- perfect for the upcoming tax season
At the end of the tax year, the Tax Office sent an inspector to audit the books of a synagogue. While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said: “I notice you buy a lot of candles, Rabbi. What do you do with the candle drippings?”
“Good question,” noted the Rabbi.. “We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles.”
“Oh,” replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual
question had a practical answer. Then he continued on, in his obnoxious way:
“What about all these biscuit purchases. What do you do with the crumbs?”
“Ah, yes,” replied the Rabbi, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question. “We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send a free box of holy biscuits.”
“I see,” replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all Rabbi. “Well, Rabbi,” he went on, “what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?”
“Here, too, we do not waste,” answered the Rabbi, having gotten the auditor exactly where he wanted him. “What we do is save up all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, and about once a year they send us a complete dick.”
Testicle Therapy
Two women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.
The ball hit one of the men.
He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.
The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize.
'Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical Therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me, she told him.
'Oh, no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes,' the man replied.
He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still clasping his hands there at his groin.
At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside.
She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and asked, 'How does that feel'?
He replied: It feels great, but I still think my thumb's broken!
She must have been a blond!!
Monday, March 2, 2009
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