Thursday, March 17, 2016

Green Beer, a Beard and a Potato - Hail to the Irish!

                                                               Happy St. Patricks Day.

 
    
Murphy told Quinn that his wife was driving him to drink.  Quinn thinks he's very lucky because his own wife makes him walk. 
 
 
     
     
Reilly went to trial for armed robbery.  The jury foreman came out and announced, "Not guilty." 
"That's grand!" shouted Reilly. "Does that mean I can keep the money?" 
     
Irish lass customer: "Could I be trying on that dress in the window?" 
Shopkeeper: "I'd prefer that you use the dressing room." 
          
Finnegin: My wife has a terrible habit of staying up 'til two in the morning.  I can't break her of it.
Keenan: What on earth is she doin' at that time?
Finnegin: Waitin' for me to come home .
 
 
 
     
Did you hear about the Irish newlyweds who sat up all night on their honeymoon waiting for their sexual relations to arrive? 
     
Paddy and Mick get a pilot to fly them to Canada to hunt moose. They bag six. 
As Paddy and Mick start loading the plane for the return trip, the pilot says, "The plane can only take four of those." 
The two lads object strongly. "Last year we shot six, and the pilot let us put them all on board; he had the same plane as yours." 
Reluctantly, the pilot gives in and all six are loaded. 
However, even with full power, the little plane can't handle the load and down it goes and crashes in the middle of nowhere. 
A few moments later, climbing out of the wreckage, Paddy asks Mick, 
"Any idea where we are?" 
"I think we're pretty close to where we crashed last year," says Mick.
 
Paddy says to Mick, "Christmas is on a Friday this year" 
Mick says "Let's hope it's not the 13th."
 
The Irish have solved their own fuel problems. They imported 50 million tons of sand from the Arabs and they're going to drill for their own oil.
 
 
 
 
Paddy is said to be shocked at finding out all his cows have Bluetongue. 
"Be Jeysus!" he said, "I didn't even know they had mobile phones!" 
 
Mick and Paddy are reading head stones at a nearby cemetery. 
Mick say "Crikey! There's a bloke here who was 152!" 
Paddy says "What's his name?" 
Mick replies "Miles, from London!" 

Mick hasn't kissed his wife in years, but he'll mash  in the ol' potato any man who does. 



Be Irish, Be Happy!






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