Monday, January 30

Not Irish coffee

I got a couple Irish jokes in my e-mail today. Since I have nothing to share with you in regards to my day (I slept a lot and still feel crappy), I'll give you the giggles, at the expense of stereotyping my ancestry.

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 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," he said. "Your husband Seamus is dead and gone. I'm sorry."
Finally, she looked up at him. "How did it happen, Tim?"
"It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of Guinness Stout, and drowned."
"Oh, my dear Jesus! But you must tell me the 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 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 got terrible news. My husband passed away last night."
The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, did he have any last requests?"
She says, "That he did, Father."
The priest says, "What did he ask, Mary?"
He said, "Please Mary, put down that damn gun,"


A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional booth, and sits down, but says nothing.
The priest coughs a few times to get his attention, but the drunk continues to just 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."

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