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.”
Paddy the Kerryman Dies
Paddy the Kerryman died in a fire and was burnt pretty bad and the morgue needed someone to identify the body. So his two best friends, Seamus and Seanin (Also Kerrymen), were sent for. Seamus went in and the mortician pulled back the sheet. Seamus said “Yup, he’s burnt pretty bad. Roll him over.” So the mortician rolled him over and Seamus looked and said “Nope, it ain’t Paddy.”
The mortician thought that was rather strange and then he brought Seanin in to identify the body. Seanin took a look at him and said, “Yup he’s burnt real bad, roll him over”. The mortician rolled him over and Seanin looked down and said, “No, it ain’t Paddy”.
The mortician asked, “How can you tell?” Seanin said, “Well, Paddy had two assholes.” “What, he had two assholes?” said the mortician. “Yup, everyone knew he had two assholes. Every time we went into town, folks would say, “Here comes Paddy with them two assholes….”
Don’t Seek Asylum in Limerick
A scout for Garryowen rugby club in Limerick is looking for new talent in the war-torn Bosnian Region in Yugoslavia. On watching a rugby match there one day he spots an amazing talent and resolves to take him to Ireland to play for Garryowen. The youngster, dying to get out of his horrible existence, agrees.
Back in Ireland that year Garryowen and their arch rivals Shannon are neck and neck at the top of the league table, entering into the last day of the season.
To make matters more tense, they are playing each other in the last game.
At 15 points each going into the last minute of the game the ball drops to Slavan, Garryowen’s new Bosnian prodigy, who runs past 3 Shannon players to score the winning try. Soon after there are wild celebrations as Garryowen celebrate their win.
Slavan is hailed as a hero and invited by the manager to guzzle back champagne back in the dressing room with the rest of the team. But before doing this, Slavan insists that he be able to ring his mother at home to tell her the good news.
On the phone to his mother, he says “Guess what mum, you won’t believe what happened here today, we won the game and I scored the winning try and I’m a hero…..”
His mother interrupts “…..you selfish ba*tard”, she says “you are always thinking of yourself. Do you have any idea what happened to us today. Your father has been killed, your sister was taken away from us and given a good seeing to, and our house has been burnt to the ground!”.
“But Mum, your not being fair. You’re acting as if all this was my fault”, says Slavan.
You’re damn right it is”, she replies. “It was your fu*kin’ idea for us to move to Limerick….!!!”
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut. The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car. He says, “Sir, have you been drinking?”
“Just water,” says the priest. The trooper says, “Then why do I smell wine?”
The priest looks at the bottle and says, “Good Lord! He’s done it again!”
An Irishman named Murphy went to his doctor after a long illness. The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Murphy in the eye and said, “I’ve some bad news for you… you have cancer and it can’t be cured. I’d give you two weeks to a month.”
Murphy, shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid character, managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor’s office into the waiting room. There he saw his son who had been waiting. Murphy said, “Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and celebrate when things don’t go so well. In this case, things aren’t so well. I have cancer and I’ve been given a short time to live. Let’s head for the pub and have a few pints.”
After three or four pints the two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of Murphy’s old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. Murphy told them that the Irish celebrate the good and the bad… he went on to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end.
He told his friends, “I’ve only got a few weeks to live as I have been diagnosed with AIDS.” The friends gave Murphy their condolences and they had a couple more beers.
After his friends left, Murphy’s son leaned over and whispered, “Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer. You just told your friends that you were dying from AIDS!”
Murphy said,”I am dying from cancer, son, I just don’t want any of them sleeping with your mother after I’m gone.”