An Irish man walks into a pub. The bartender asks him, “what’ll you have?”
The man says, “Give me three pints of Guinness please.”So the bartender brings him three pints and the man proceeds to alternately sip one, then the other, then the third until they’re gone. He then orders three more.
The bartender says, “Sir, I know you like them cold. You don’t have to order three at a time. I can keep an eye on it and when you get low I’ll bring you a fresh cold one.”
The man says, “You don’t understand. I have two brothers, one in Australia and one in the States. We made a vow to each other that every Saturday night we’d still drink together. So right now, my brothers have three Guinness Stouts too, and we’re drinking together.
The bartender thought that was a wonderful tradition. Every week the man came in and ordered three beers. Then one week he came in and ordered only two. He drank them and then ordered two more.
The bartender said to him, “I know what your tradition is, and I’d just like to say that I’m sorry that one of your brothers died.”
The man said, “Oh, me brothers are fine – I just quit drinking.”
Got any good ones?
Morgan was dying, and he called his son to his side. “Morgan, me boy, I fear I’m dyin’,” he said in the worst Irish brogue I can come up with. He then handed his son a bottle. “This is a bottle of Irish malt whiskey. I brought it over with me from the Old Country sixty years ago. It is me dyin’ wish that when I’m buried, you pour it on me grave.”
“Oh, father, and that I shall be glad to do,” his son said. “But will ye be mindin’ if, before I do, I pass it through me kidneys just once?”
I’d use St. Patrick’s Day as an excuse, but I don’t drink. I’m just a natural klutz.
Q: What’s Irish and sits outside on the lawn? A: Paddy O’Furniture!
I learned that on a bit differently.
Who’s the gay Irishman who only comes out of the closet during summer?
The answer is of course Patty O’Furniture.
Enjoy…Happy St. Patty’s Day!
Peace
And they omit to mention that he missed a whole pile of two-legged snakes … but there is a story for when I’m sober.
when the local policeman pulled him over. “What’s wrong, Seamus?”, asked Paddy. Seamus the cop said, “Don’t you know your wife fell out of the car two miles back?”
“Oh, thanks be to God”, said Paddy, “I thought I’d gone deaf”.
If my wife sees this, I’m a dead man.
were sitting on a bench across from the village house of prostitutes.
A car drove up, and the Protestant minister got out and went in.
“What a shame to see that, a man of God,” said Paddy.
A few minutes passed, another car drove up. Out stepped the village rabbi, and went in.
“Aw now!,” said Mike. “That just makes you want to cry. Such a fine man, to go so low.”
They sipped their beers, shaking their heads.
Another car drove up. The village Imam got out, and went into the house of prostitutes.
“I’m not believin me eyes!” said Paddy. “Now there’s as pious a man as walks the earth in these parts, I’d never expect to see him goin inta that place. That’s # men o’ God we’ve seen tonight, Mike, all fallen inta the dust o’ sin.”
Mike shook his head sadly, and sipped his beer.
A car drove up, and the parish priest got out and went in.
Mike opened his eyes wide. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Paddy, didya see that? Father O’Brien just went into the house o’ prostitutes!”
Paddy made the sign of the cross. “Aye,” he said. “One o’ the girls must be terrible terrible sick, God bless ‘er.”
This one’s for the Irish kicking some English butt – and bad Irish jokes!
š
So when’s St. Booman’s Day? (ribbit)
the 31st of October?
The pagans here have dibs on that one!
And the difference between the Irish and the pagans would be?
don’t feel guilty
Fah! And you think the Irish do? They pretend to feel guilty when Mother is around …
Leprechauns like kisses from everyone!
MMMMWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHHH! š
Ha! Even if on the radio… we’re still wearing pink, the lipstick the buttons, er the pink again. š I gotsta say, I love CodePink.
Happy St. Patricks Day everyone!
I’ll raise some Midori & Lime Daquiries in yer honor tonight.
Many years ago, pink and “seafoam green” was a very popular color combination, and today, a dark forest green with a cool frosty pink would be perfect for a fashion-conscious Irish peacenik.
Or how about Jlo olive and bright rose pink, for the Irish-for-the-day war protestor of color?
For the business lady who needs to keep it subtle for the office, you can’t go wrong with ashes of roses accented with soft spring green…
At the World Brewers Expo in the States, the CEOs of brewers from around
the world, retired to the bar at the end of each day’s conference.
The CEO of Fosters, shouted to the Barman: “Down under, we make the best
bloody beer in the world, so pour me a Fosters, mate.”
The head of Budweiser, calls out next: “In the States, we brew the finest
beers of the world, and I make the king of them all, gimme a Bud.”
Hans steps up next: “In Germany ve invent das bier, ferdamt. Give me ein
Becks, das ist der real king of beers, danke.”
Looking disappointed, Paddy, CEO of Guinness, steps forward: “Barman,
Would ya give me a diet coke with lemon? Tanks very much.”
The others stare at him in stunned silence, disbelief written all over
their faces. Eventually breaking the silence, the barkeep asks: “Are you not going to have a Guinness, Pat?”
Paddy replies “Well, if you fookin’ pansies aren’t drinkin’, then neither am I!
Happy St Paddies Day!
A Wall Street investment banker is on vacation in Ireland, and one fine morning he decides to leave his inn and take a long walk. He’s enjoying the beautiful day, the warm sun, and the spectacular scenery when, as though to complete this picture of bucolic perfection, he comes upon a sheep-herder with his flock.
Curious what the life of an Irish sheep-herder is like, he walks up and introduces himself, and the two fall to talking. After about 45 minutes, the banker realizes he needs to go, but as he’s about to take his leave, he says to the shepherd, “Say, how about a little bet? I’ll bet you 500 euros (used to be Irish punts) against one of your sheep that I can tell you exactly how many sheep you have.”
Well, the shepherd thinks, I do nothing all day long but count my sheep, and here’s this city fella wants to bet me he can do it just as well. “All right, sir, I’ll take your wager.”
The banker reaches into his pocket, pulls out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and begins to scribble. After a minute or two, he says, “You have 522 sheep.”
The shepherd is thunderstruck. “Why, sir, I can’t believe it, but I have to tell you true, you’re exactly correct. You win, sir; pick one of my sheep.”
The investment banker picks up an animal, puts it over his shoulders, and takes his leave. Just as he’s about to pass out of earshot, the shepherd shouts, “Sir! Would you care to go double or nothing?”
Well, the banker, not able to resist doing another deal, comes back and says, “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, sir, I’ll wager you double or nothing that I can guess what you do for a livin’.”
Now it’s the banker’s turn to think, This rural fellow probably doesn’t even know what an investment banker is, let alone what one looks like. “Sure,” he says, “I’ll take that bet.”
The shepherd pauses for a moment, and then says, “Ye wouldna be one a them investment banker fellas, now, would ye?”
Now it’s the banker’s turn to be thunderstruck. But he recovers his composure quickly, and says, “Well, I’m on vacation, so I won’t lie to you. Yes, you’re exactly right, so I guess we’re even. But tell me, how did you know?”
“Well, now, sir, it was obvious. First, you come out of nowhere. You chat me up for three quarters of an hour about nothing at all. You make a spectacular back-of-the-envelope calculation. And you pick the dog anyway!”
ah yes, those investment bankers bring SUCH value to the deal š
I’m gonna tell Jérome on you lot …
Here’s one:
Call it ‘tragicomedy’ — emphasis on the tragic.
However, the man himself is nothing if not frivolous.
You know, myself and the wife would take offense at this appalling stereotyping of the Irish if we didn’t have a pint of Guinness and two glasses of Whiskey by the bed as I type…
it is appalling. Isn’t it? š
Being half Irish I just love St Patrick’s Day!
My favorite one is…
An Irish man walks out of the bar….hey it could happen!
š
wanted to try a new sexual position with his new wife. He explained to her that he wanted to try the wheelbarrow position with him holding her legs up and her supporting herself with her arms. She thought about it a minute and said, “I’ll do it, but I have two conditions. First, if I tell you my back is hurting, we have to stop right away. Second, don’t be wheeling me past my mum’s house.”
A norrlänning – a man from the northern part of Sweden – always boasted about how far he’d travelled in his younger days. “I’ve been to Långsele and Lycksele and Sorsele and …” – all small towns in the northern of Sweden. Another man who had heard him boasting about this a long time got tired of it and asked, tongue-in-cheek, “Oh, holy lord, but have you ever been to Arsele?” (For those of you not fluent in norrländska: arsele = arse).
“No, I haven’t” answered the first man, “but I’m born in the neighborhood.”