March 2, 2009

Day 2

The first Monday in March is the official warm-up day for St. Patrick's Month. It's time to make sure that your stock of Irish Whiskey is ample. Have you got that all important date lined up for the big day? More importantly, have you got that more important designated driver lined up?


The Garda (the Irisher term for the police), a disagreeable sort, stops a local farmer on a minor infraction and proceeds to berate the poor man this way and that, dressing him down most unfairly. After the lecture, which the farmer takes well, the constable starts writing the poor man up. While he's writing, he keeps swattin' at flies circling his head.

"The circle flies botherin' ya, are they?" says the farmer.

"Why do ya call 'em circle flies, old man?"

"We call 'em that on the farm 'cause we find 'em flying around and around the harses' behinds." says the farmer.

"Are you callin' me a harse's arse?" snarls the Garda.

"Oh saints, no," protests the farmer. "T'wouldn't think of such a thing." And the Garda goes back to writing. "...kinda hard to fool the flies, though."


When old Hennessey collapsed on the street, a crowd soon gathered and began making suggestions as to how the old fellow should be revived.

Maggie O'Reilly yelled, "Give the poor man some whiskey!"

No one paid any attention to her, and the crowd continued shouting out suggestions. Finally, Hennessey opened one eye, pulled himself up on an elbow, and said weakly, "Will the lot o' ye hold yer tongues and let Maggie O'Reilly speak!"


The ritual of the Irish wake has not changed in a thousand years . . . They have the kitchen table, and they cover it with a white sheet and a silk pillow and they lay the remains out on the table and all the neighbors come in and pay their last respects. Such a man lying there is Seamus O'Shaughnessy, passed on, deceased, gone over, demised, and he's stone dead as well. Just then two of the legs on the table caved in and O'Shaughnessy slid onto the floor. His neighbor Muldoon said, "My God, what are we going to do?"

Murphy said, "Well, we'll have to level him up somehow. We'll put his head on a chair, we'll put a chair at his feet, we push a chair in underneath him, lift him up and level him out."

Muldoon said, "A good idea! "

Murphy said, "Leave it to me." Murphy looked at the people at the wake and said, "Can we have three chairs for the corpse?"

And they all went, "Hip hip hooray!"

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