Since I'm 1/2 Irish ... Jokes for St. Patrick's Day
A Texan walks into a pub in Galway, Ireland and raises his voice to the crowd of drinkers.
He shouts, 'I hear you Irish are a bunch of drinkin' fools. I'll bet $500 American dollars on anybody in here who can drink 10 pints of Guinness back to back.' The room is quiet
and no one takes of the Texan's offer. Paddy Murphy gets up and leaves the bar.
Thirty minutes later, he shows back up and taps the Texan on the shoulder.
”Is your bet still good?' asks Paddy. The Texan answers, 'Yes', and he orders
the barman to line up 10 pints of Guinness. Immediately, Paddy downs all 10 pints of beer, drinking them all back to back.
The other pub patrons cheer and the Texan sits down in amazement.
The Texan gives the Irishman the $500 and asks, 'If ya don't mind me askin',
where did you go for that 30 minutes you were gone?'
Paddy Murphy replies, 'Oh................... I had to go to the pub down the street to see if I could do it first.'
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Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place. Looking up to heaven he said,
“Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
“Never mind, Lord,” said Paddy, “I found one!”
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Paddy was in New York. He was patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, “Okay, pedestrians.” Then he’d allow the traffic to pass.
He’d done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, “Pedestrians!” for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, “Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?”
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Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend, Finney.
“Did you see the paper?” asked Gallagher. “They say I died!!”
“Yes, I saw it!” replied Finney. “Where are ye callin’ from?”
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An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut . The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.
He says, “Sir, have you been drinking?”
“Just water,” says the priest.
The trooper says, “Then why do I smell wine?”
The priest looks at the bottle and says, “Good Lord! He’s done it again!”
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Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, “Pour me a stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.”
“Oh yeah?” said Charlie, “And how did this one end?”
“When it was over,” Mike replied, “She came to me on her hands and knees.”
“Really,” said Charles, “Now that’s a switch! What did she say?”
She said, “Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.”
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Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, “You were drunk again last night weren’t you?”
Flynn said, “Why you say such a mean thing?”
“Well,” Mary said, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....
it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.”
He shouts, 'I hear you Irish are a bunch of drinkin' fools. I'll bet $500 American dollars on anybody in here who can drink 10 pints of Guinness back to back.' The room is quiet
and no one takes of the Texan's offer. Paddy Murphy gets up and leaves the bar.
Thirty minutes later, he shows back up and taps the Texan on the shoulder.
”Is your bet still good?' asks Paddy. The Texan answers, 'Yes', and he orders
the barman to line up 10 pints of Guinness. Immediately, Paddy downs all 10 pints of beer, drinking them all back to back.
The other pub patrons cheer and the Texan sits down in amazement.
The Texan gives the Irishman the $500 and asks, 'If ya don't mind me askin',
where did you go for that 30 minutes you were gone?'
Paddy Murphy replies, 'Oh................... I had to go to the pub down the street to see if I could do it first.'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place. Looking up to heaven he said,
“Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
“Never mind, Lord,” said Paddy, “I found one!”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Paddy was in New York. He was patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, “Okay, pedestrians.” Then he’d allow the traffic to pass.
He’d done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, “Pedestrians!” for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, “Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend, Finney.
“Did you see the paper?” asked Gallagher. “They say I died!!”
“Yes, I saw it!” replied Finney. “Where are ye callin’ from?”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut . The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.
He says, “Sir, have you been drinking?”
“Just water,” says the priest.
The trooper says, “Then why do I smell wine?”
The priest looks at the bottle and says, “Good Lord! He’s done it again!”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, “Pour me a stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.”
“Oh yeah?” said Charlie, “And how did this one end?”
“When it was over,” Mike replied, “She came to me on her hands and knees.”
“Really,” said Charles, “Now that’s a switch! What did she say?”
She said, “Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, “You were drunk again last night weren’t you?”
Flynn said, “Why you say such a mean thing?”
“Well,” Mary said, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....
it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.”
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