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An elderly Irish man lay dying in his bed, while suffering the agonies of impending death.
He suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite cheese scones, wafting up the stairs, he gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning against the wall he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs with labored breath.
He leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen, were it not for death’s agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there ,spread out upon waxed paper on the table, were dozens of his favorite cheese scones.
Was it heaven. or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Irish wife of 60yrs,seeing to it that he left this world a happy man.
One great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture, his parched lips parted, he could almost taste the cheese scone before it was in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.
The aged and withered hand trembled on it’s way, to the nearest scone at the edge of the table, when his hand was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife…”
Get ya fuскing hands off..!” She said, “There for your funeral..
Late one Friday night a policeman spotted a man driving very erratically through the streets of Dublin.
They pulled the man over and asked him if he had been drinking that evening.
“Aye, so I have ’tis Friday, you know, so me and the lads stopped by the pub where I had six or seven pints. And then there was something called “Happy Hour” and they served these mar-gar-itos which are quite good. I had four or five o’ those. Then I had to drive me friend Mike home and o’ course I had to go in for a couple of Guinness - couldn’t be rude, ye know. Then I stopped on the way home to get another bottle for later…”
And the man fumbled around in his coat until he located his bottle of whiskey, which he held up for inspection.
The officer sighed, and said, “Sir, I’m afraid I’ll need you to step out of the car and take a breathalyser test.”
Indignantly, the man said, “Why? Don’t ye believe me?”
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 ye.” ….
…
“Of course ye can come in, you’re always welcome, Tim. But where’s me husband?” …
…
“That’s what I’m here to be tellin’ ye, 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 Seamus is dead and gone. I’m sorry.” …
…
Finally, she looked up at Tim. “How did it happen, Tim?”
“It was terrible, Brenda,… He fell into a vat o’ Guiness Stout and drowned."
"Oh my dear Jaysus, Maury an’ Joseph!! But ye must tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go quickly?”
“Well, … no Brenda … no.”
“No?”
“Fact is, he got out three times to рее.”
Раddy and Colleen were making passionate love in Раddy’s mini van when suddenly Colleen, being a bit on the кinкy side, yells out, “Oh big boy, whip me, whip me!”
Раddy, not wanting to pass up this unique opportunity, obviously did not have any whips on hand, but in a flash of inspiration, he opens the window, snaps the antenna off his van and proceeds to whip Colleen until they both collapse in ecstasy.
About a week later, Colleen notices that the marks left by the whipping are starting to fester a bit so she goes to the doctor. The doctor takes one look at the wounds and asks, “Did you get these marks having sеx?”
Colleen, a little embarrassed that she has slept with Раddy (let alone that she allowed the кinкy boy to whip her) eventually admits that, yes, she did.
Nodding his head knowingly, the doctor exclaims, “I thought so, because in all my years as a doctor, you’ve got the worst case of van aerial disease that I’ve ever seen.
Раddy was morbidly obese so he went to see the Doctor.
The Doctor says “OK, Раddy, I want you to eat normally for a day, then skip a day,the eat normally for a day then skip a day, stick to this regime for a fortnight and you will lose weight, so come back and see me then”.
A fortnight later Раddy returns to the Doctor, who is amazed to see that Раddy has lost sixty pounds. “Amazing Раddy, this is far more weight loss than I would have anticipated, well done”!
Paddy replies “Well sorr, it was feckin’ torture, oi nearly taut dat oi would die on the fifth day”
The Doctor says “What from the hunger”?
Paddy replied “No sorr, from all dat feckin skippin'”
There once were two Irishmen named Раddy and Sean, who were the best of friends. During one particular night of revelry, the two agreed that when one passed on, the other would take and spill the contents of a bottle of fine, Irish whiskey over the grave of the fondly missed and recently dead friend. …
…
As fate would have it, Sean would be the first to pass. …
…
Раddy, hearing of his friend’s illness, came to visit his dear friend one last time. …
…
“Sean,” said Раddy, “can ye hear me?” …
…
Faintly, Sean replied, “Yes, Раddy, I can.”
Bashfully, Раddy started, “Do ye remember our pact, Sean?”
“Yes, I do, Раddy,” Sean strained.
“And, you’ll also remember that I was to pour the contents of a fine, old bottle of Irish whiskey over your grave, which we have been saving for going on 30 years now?” said Раddy.
“Yes Раddy, I do,” whispered Sean.
“It’s a very old bottle now, ye know,” urged Раddy.
“And what are ye gettin’ at, Раddy?” asked Sean, briskly.
“Well Sean, when I pour the whiskey over your grave, would ye mind if I filter it through me kidneys first?”
“Bless me father- for I have sinned. I have been with a loose woman.”
The priest asks, “Is that you, little Tommy Shaughnessy?”
“Yes, Father, it is.
“And, who was the woman you were with?”
“Sure and I can’t be tellin’ you Father. I don’t want to ruin her reputation.”
“Well, Tommy, I’m sure to find out sooner or later, so you may as well tell me now. Was it Brenda O’Malley?”
“I cannot say.”
“Was it Patricia Kelly?”
“I cannot say.”
“Was it Liz Shannon?”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot name her.”
“Was it Cathy Morgan?”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Was it Fiona McDonald, then?”
“Please, Father, I cannot tell you.”
The priest sighs in frustration.
“You’re a steadfast lad,Tommy Shaughnessy,and I admire that. But you’ve sinned, and you must atone. You cannot attend church mass for three full months. Be off with you ”
now!”
Tommy walks back to his pew.
His friend Sean slides over to his seat and whispers “well… what’d you get?”
“Three months vacation and five good leads.”
========
Murphy is stood outside his house when he spots Раddy walking down the street with a strange animal by his side.
“whats that weird looking creature you have there?” he asks
“oooohhh” replies Раddy “this is the fiercest dog in Ireland its called a long nosed, short legged, long tailed Irish attack dog”
“We’ll see about that ! i have a Rottweiler, a Doberman and a Pit Bull Terrier in the back yard lets put this long nosed, short legged, long tailed Irish attack dog of yours to the test” Murphy laughs
“I’ll bet you a 100 that my dog can beat all three of them at the same time” says Раddy proudly
So they shake on the bet and go to the back yard where the Rottweiller, Doberman and Pit Bull are growling and barking.
Murphy opens the gate and the long nosed, short legged, long tailed Irish attack dog walks in. After a few seconds fur is flying and the dogs are screaming, then silence……
They look into the yard to see the long nosed, short legged, long tailed Irish attack dog stood alone with no trace of the other three dogs apart from some blood and fur around its mouth.
“well you were right Раddy” says Murphy as he’s handing over the ?100
“what did you say it was called again ? a long nosed, short legged, long tailed Irish attack dog ?”
“Yup” replies Paddy
“but in other parts of the world they call it a Crocodile!”