Ya gotta love the Irish!

lorweld · 21-08-2008 3:08pm #1

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.
Paddy looked up again and said, "Never mind, I found one."

Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and says to the first man he
meets, "Do you want to go to heaven?"
The man said, "I do, Father."
The priest said, "Then stand over there against the wall."
Then the priest asked the second man, "Do you want to go to heaven?"
"Certainly, Father," was the man's reply.
"Then stand over there against the wall," said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and said, "Do you want to go to
heaven?"
O'Toole said, "No, I don't Father."
The priest said, "I don't believe this. You mean to tell me that when
you die you don't want to go to heaven?"
O'Toole said, "Oh, when I die, yes. I thought you were getting a group
together to go right now."

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.