Here are a few stories about the Irish and the justice system....
The Garda, 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."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paddy
was in America. 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 toime ye let the Catholics across?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I
shall hold this case in camera," said the Irish judge.
"What does that mean?" asked the witness.
"Well," said the judge, "I know what it means, and the jury knows what it means you just tell us what happened on the night of June 1st."
"I went to a dance," related the witness, "and Mary asked me to see her home. It was a fine evening and after we'd crossed a field we sat on a stile in the moonlight and I put my arm around her. After that, there was a little mushy, sweety-pie palaver."
"And what, pray, does that mean?" asked the judge.
The reply came quickly: "I know what it means, the jury knows what it means, and if you'd been there with your camera, judge, you'd know what it means."
"What does that mean?" asked the witness.
"Well," said the judge, "I know what it means, and the jury knows what it means you just tell us what happened on the night of June 1st."
"I went to a dance," related the witness, "and Mary asked me to see her home. It was a fine evening and after we'd crossed a field we sat on a stile in the moonlight and I put my arm around her. After that, there was a little mushy, sweety-pie palaver."
"And what, pray, does that mean?" asked the judge.
The reply came quickly: "I know what it means, the jury knows what it means, and if you'd been there with your camera, judge, you'd know what it means."
No comments:
Post a Comment