A Scotsman, Irishman and Englishman walk into a bar. A fly lands in the beer of the Englishman and he pushes the beer aside and orders another. Another fly lands in the Scotsman beer, he pulls the fly out and keeps drinking. Another fly lands in the Irishman’s beer. The Irishman pulls the fly out, squeezes it and says, “spit it out, you little bastard!
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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 tak in case you need an Irish 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.’
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Englishman, “why do you Irish always answer a question with a question?”
Irishman, “who told you that?”
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Man walks into a bar and lays $500 on the table and says ‘I bet the 500 that no-one in here can drink ten pints straight down one after the other’, and Irishman says ‘I will take that bet but need 10 minutes before I do’. The Irishman walks out the pub and comes back after 10 minutes, goes to the ten beers and drinks them all down and picks up the 500. The man says ‘you won that fair and square, but where did you go for the 10 minutes’, the Irishman said ‘to the Pub across the road, I wanted to make sure I could do it’.
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As an Irishman living in Ireland I reserve the right to tell the following Irish joke.
A man was walking to his local pub for his usual evening drink. As he approached he saw a nun who began to hector him with “Tink before you drink. The demon drink is the work of the devil”.
The man gets a bit annoyed and decides to have a go at the nun by saying “Do you know what you’re talking about. You’ve probably never had a drink so don’t be hypocritical by shouting at us who do”.
The nun looked downcast and told the man that morally he was right.
The man then said “Why don’t you have a drink now and then you can return to your preaching”.
The nun said “Well I might try one. I hear women normally drink gin. Could you bring me out one in a cup as I don’t want people to see me holding a glass”.
The man continued on into the bar and said to the barman “Could I have a pint of Guinness and a double gin in a cup”.
The barman replied “Is that bloody nun back again”.
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Q: what’s the difference between an Irish funeral and an Irish wedding?
A: One less drunk
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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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Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Kathleen.
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, Patton 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, Patton woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Kathleen staring at him from across the room.
She said, ‘You were drunk again last night weren’t you?’
Patton said, ‘Why you say such a mean thing?’
‘Well,’ Kathleen 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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I remember my old dad, who was a true Irish man from Kerry, falling down the stairs with a whole crate of Guinness and never spilled a drop. He kept his mouth shut.
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An Irishman walked into a bar with a steering wheel for a belt buckle. He bellied up the the bar to order his pint when the bartender asked him if he knew he had a steering wheel attached to him. The Irishman replied “yes I know, it’s driving me nuts!”
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A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink.
“Why of course,” comes the reply.
The first man then asks: “Where are you from?”
“I’m from Ireland,” replies the second man.
The first man responds: “You don’t say, I’m from Ireland too! Let’s have another round to Ireland.”
“Of course,” replies the second man.
I’m curious, the first man then asks: “Where in Ireland are you from?”
“Dublin,” comes the reply.
“I can’t believe it,” says the first man. “I’m from Dublin too! Let’s have another drink to Dublin.”
“Of course,” replies the second man.
Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: “What school did you go to?”
“Saint Vincent’s,” replies the second man, “I graduated in ’62.”
“This is unbelievable!”, the first man says. “I went to Saint Vincent’s and I graduated in ’62, too!”
About that time, in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar. “What’s been going on?” he asks the bartender.
“Nothing much,” replies the bartender. “The O’Malley twins are drunk again.”
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Irish brewery worker drowns in a vat of Guinness. Took a while; had to get out six times to pee.
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Two Irishmen walking home from the pub on the railroad tracks. One says Paddy these are the longest stairs I’ve ever been on. Paddys says aye tis’ that all right but it’s these fookin’ low handrails that’s killing me.
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Two Irish men friends for years and one Pat lay dying so told his friend Mike to hand him down a dust covered bottle of whiskey. Mike when I’m dead and buried sprinkle this whiskey on me grave.Mike says would you mind if I run it through me kidneys first.
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An Irishman, an Italian and a Jew walk into a bar. The bartender looks up and says “Is this a joke?”
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An Irishman falls down the steps… as he is tumbling he remembers the pint in his back pocket… upon landing he feels a wetness in his hind area… as he reaches back he says, “I hope that is blood I feel”…
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Two Irishmen walk out of a bar…
Hey it COULD happen….
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Do you know why whiskey was invented ?
SO THE IRISH WOULDN’T TAKE OVER THE WORLD !
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I’m Irish & German. Ya know how many Volkswagens I can drive at one time?
One and a fifth.
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I would like to share an experience with you about drinking and driving. As you well know, some of us have been known to have had brushes with the authorities on our way home after a holiday party or two over the years. A couple of nights ago, after band practice had a few too many beers. Knowing full well I may have been slightly over the limit, I did something I’ve never done before – I took a bus home. I arrived home safely and without incident, which was a real surprise since I had never driven a bus before and am not sure where I got this one.
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Paddy and Mick are in this bar, see… and there’s mirrors around the walls. After a few hours of Guinness, Paddy says, ‘hey Mick, there’s two blokes over there that’s the spittin’ image o’ you ‘n me… lets go over and have a yarn wid ’em’……. Mick looks up and says, ‘nah, siddown Paddy, dere comin’ over ‘ere.’
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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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One fella walked into a pub, sat beside his drinking buddy and said ” my wife is driving me to drink,” his buddy said why are you complaining ” I have to walk here.
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True story:
My father was in Ireland some years ago, and went for a walk in the countryside. He walked into a village, and there was a shop/newsagents/pub. The pub was connected to the shop/newsagents by an internal doorway, also having an outside door as well. My father bought a newspaper, then went into the pub. The man who’d just served my father followed him into the pub, and it turned out he was both the pub landlord and the shop proprietor. My father asked him for a pint of beer.
“I’m sorry sir, I can’t serve you, the bar won’t be open for an hour.” he said.
“That’s ok”, my father replied, taking a seat, “I’ll just read the paper in the meantime.”
“Well, would you like a beer while you’re waiting?”
Got to love the logic behind that.
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