[meteorite-list] [Fwd: Happy st. patrick's day! We are all Irish on Sunday???]

From: Walter Sullivan <wsulliva_at_meteoritecentral.com>
Date: Thu Apr 22 10:02:30 2004
Message-ID: <3C960671.3070901_at_ix.netcom.com>

> Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he's 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'Connor and me had a fight," says Paddy.
>
> "That little twit, O'Connor," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he
> musta had help."
>
> "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 hand?"
>
> "That I did," said Paddy. "Mrs. O'Connor's breast, and a thing of beauty
it
> is, but useless in a fight."
>
> ***********************
>
> An Irishman who had a little too much to drink is driving home from the
pub
> 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 tellin' ya, Brenda. There was an accident
down
> at the brewery."
>
> "Oh, heavens, no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me..."
>
> "I must, Brenda. Your husband Shamus is dead and gone. I'm sorry."
>
> "How did it happen, Tim?" she cries.
>
> "It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of Guinness Stout and
drowned."
>
> "Oh dear Jesus! But you must tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go
quickly?"
>
> "Well no, Brenda, no. Fact is, he got out three times to pee!"
>
>
> **************************
>
> 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 terrible news. My husband passed away last
> night."
>
> The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that is terrible. Tell me, 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!'"
>
>
Received on Mon 18 Mar 2002 10:23:29 AM PST