Top o' the mornin to ya
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Top o' the mornin to ya
Happy st. Patricks day everyboby
An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scotsman go into a pub. Each orders a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and land-- one, two, three-- in each of the pints.
The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another... the Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow.
The Irishman reaches in to the glass, grabs the fly between his fingers and shakes him as hard as he can, shouting 'Spit it out, ya bloody bastard! Spit it out!'
An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scotsman go into a pub. Each orders a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and land-- one, two, three-- in each of the pints.
The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another... the Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow.
The Irishman reaches in to the glass, grabs the fly between his fingers and shakes him as hard as he can, shouting 'Spit it out, ya bloody bastard! Spit it out!'
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Oldy but goody!! Happy St Patty'* day!
Be careful if you're going out tonight. When I was a cop, we called it Amateur Night. Tonight and New Years, all the people that wouldn't dream of it normally go out, get drunk, act stupid, and then try to drive home.
Be careful if you're going out tonight. When I was a cop, we called it Amateur Night. Tonight and New Years, all the people that wouldn't dream of it normally go out, get drunk, act stupid, and then try to drive home.
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An Irish man has been at a pub all night drinking. The bartender finally says that the bar is closed. So your man stands up to leave and falls flat on his face. He figures he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up.
Once outside he stands up but again falls flat on his face. He crawls home. Reaching the door he tries to stand up, and yet again, falls flat on his face. He crawls through the door and up the stairs. When he reaches his bed he summons the last of his strength and tries one final time to stand.
It'* no use. He tumbles into bed and is soon sound asleep, only to awaken the next morning to the sound of his wife standing over him shouting.
'So... you've been out drinking again!'
'How did you know?' he asks, his head hung in shame.
'The pub called-- you left your damn wheelchair down there again!'
Once outside he stands up but again falls flat on his face. He crawls home. Reaching the door he tries to stand up, and yet again, falls flat on his face. He crawls through the door and up the stairs. When he reaches his bed he summons the last of his strength and tries one final time to stand.
It'* no use. He tumbles into bed and is soon sound asleep, only to awaken the next morning to the sound of his wife standing over him shouting.
'So... you've been out drinking again!'
'How did you know?' he asks, his head hung in shame.
'The pub called-- you left your damn wheelchair down there again!'
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Happy St Patty'* all.
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,"
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,"
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An Irish priest and a Rabbi get into a car accident. They both get out of their cars and stumble over to the side of the road. The Rabbi says, "Oy vey! What a wreck!" The priest asks him, "Are you all right, Rabbi?" The Rabbi responds, "Just a little shaken." The priest pulls a flask of whiskey from his coat and says, "Here, drink some of this it will calm your nerves." The Rabbi takes the flask and drinks it down and says, "Well, what are we going to tell the police?" "Well," the priest says, "I don't know what your aft' to be tellin' them. But I'll be tellin' them I wasn't the one drinkin'."
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A LETTER FROM
AN IRISH MOTHER
Dear Son,
Just a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I'm writing this slowly because I know you can't read fast. You wont know the house when you get home, 'cos we've moved.
Your Father has a lovely new job with 700 men under him - he cuts grass at the cemetery. There was a washing machine at the new house, but it'* not working too good. Last week I put in 12 shirts, pulled the chain and I haven't seen them since.
Your sister, Colleen had a baby this morning, but I haven't found out if it'* a boy or girl, so I don't know if you're an uncle or aunt.
Your Uncle Mick drowned last week in a vat of Whisky at the Dublin Distillery. His mates tried to save him, but he fought them off bravely. He was cremated and it took four days to put the fire out.
I saw the doctor last week and your Father went with me. Doc put a glass tube in my mouth and told me not to talk for five minuets. Your Father wanted to buy it from him. It only rained twice this week, first for four days the second for three days.
We had a letter from the undertaker. He said if the final payment on your Grandmother'* grave wasn't paid in seven days - up she comes.
Your loving Mother
P.*. I was going to send you 10 Punt, but I'd already sealed the enveloper
AN IRISH MOTHER
Dear Son,
Just a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I'm writing this slowly because I know you can't read fast. You wont know the house when you get home, 'cos we've moved.
Your Father has a lovely new job with 700 men under him - he cuts grass at the cemetery. There was a washing machine at the new house, but it'* not working too good. Last week I put in 12 shirts, pulled the chain and I haven't seen them since.
Your sister, Colleen had a baby this morning, but I haven't found out if it'* a boy or girl, so I don't know if you're an uncle or aunt.
Your Uncle Mick drowned last week in a vat of Whisky at the Dublin Distillery. His mates tried to save him, but he fought them off bravely. He was cremated and it took four days to put the fire out.
I saw the doctor last week and your Father went with me. Doc put a glass tube in my mouth and told me not to talk for five minuets. Your Father wanted to buy it from him. It only rained twice this week, first for four days the second for three days.
We had a letter from the undertaker. He said if the final payment on your Grandmother'* grave wasn't paid in seven days - up she comes.
Your loving Mother
P.*. I was going to send you 10 Punt, but I'd already sealed the enveloper
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