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O/T Irish jokes

Discussion in 'Off Topic Threads' started by Shooting Jack, Mar 28, 2009.

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  1. Shooting Jack

    Shooting Jack Active Member

    Jul 29, 2006
    Blackshear, Georgia
    Only the Irish have Jokes Like These

    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 shit, 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.'


    > ******************************************************************************************** ! **************

    > A n 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 m y 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 Ito a vat

    > Of Guinness Stout and drowned.'

    > ' Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me truth, Tim.

    > Did he at least go quickly?'

    > 'Well, Brenda... No. In fact,

    > He got out three times to pee.'


    > ************************************************************************************************************

    > Mary Clancy goes up to Fater 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...'


    > *********************************************************************************************************


    > 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!'
  2. Barrelbulge(Fl)

    Barrelbulge(Fl) TS Supporters TS Supporters

    Aug 27, 2007
    West Central Florida
    Irish Golfer

    A golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer's ball beside him.

    Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him.

    'Arrgh! What happened?' the Leprechaun asked.

    'I'm afraid I hit you with my golf ball,' the golfer says.

    'Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?'

    'Thank God, you're all right!' the golfer answers in relief. 'I don't want anything, I'm just glad you're OK, and I apologize.'And the golfer walks off.

    'What a nice guy,' the Leprechaun says to himself. 'I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things I would want... a great golf game, all the money he ever needs, and a fantastic sex life.'

    A year goes by and the golfer is back. On the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into the woods and the Leprechaun is there waiting for him.

    'Twas me that made ye hit the ball here,' the little guy says. 'I just want to ask ye, how's yer golf game?'

    'My game is fantastic!' the golfer answers. I'm an internationally famous golfer now..' He adds, 'By the way, it's good to see you're all right.'

    'Oh, I'm fine now, thank ye. I did that fer yer golf game, you know. And tell me, how's yer money situation?'

    'Why, it's just wonderful!' the golfer states. 'When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out $100 bills I didn't even know were there!'

    'I did that fer ye also. And tell me, how's yer sex life?'

    The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, 'It's OK.'

    'C'mon, c'mon now,' urged the Leprechaun, 'I'm wanting to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?'

    Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, 'Once, sometimes twice a week.'

    'What??' responds the Leprechaun in shock. 'That's all? Only once or twice a week?'

    'Well,' says the golfer, 'I figure that's not bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish.'
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