By Jim Stanford on March 17, 2007
Some Irish humor to brighten your St. Patrick’s Day:
The Matterhorn
For a holiday, Mulvaney decided to go to Switzerland to fulfill a lifelong dream and climb the Matterhorn. He hired a guide and just as they neared the top, the men were caught in a snow slide.
Three hours later, a Saint Bernard plowed through to them, a keg of brandy tied under his chin.
“Hooray!” shouted the guide. “Here comes man’s best friend!”
“Yeah,” said Mulvaney. “An’ look at the size of the dog that’s bringin’ it!”
Irish Cemetery
Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Seamus, were stumbling home from the pub late one night and found themselves on the road which led past the old graveyard.
“Come have a look over here,” says Paddy, “It’s Michael O’Grady’s grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87.”
“That’s nothing,” says Sean, “here’s one named Patrick O’Toole; it says here that he was 95 when he died!”
Just then, Seamus yells out, “Good God, here’s a fella that got to be 145!”
“What was his name?” asks Paddy.
Seamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match to see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims,
“Miles, from Dublin.”
The Brothel
Two Irishmen were sitting at a pub having beer and watching the brothel across the street.
They saw a Baptist minister walk into the brothel, and one of them said, “Aye, ’tis a shame to see a man of the cloth goin’ bad.”
Then they saw a rabbi enter the brothel, and the other Irishman said, “Aye, ’tis a shame to see that the Jews are fallin’ victim to temptation as well.”
Then they see a Catholic priest enter the brothel, and one of the Irishmen said, “What a terrible pity … one of the girls must be dying.”
Water to Wine
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!”
An Errand
McQuillan walked into a bar and ordered martini after martini, each time removing the olives and placing them in a jar.
When the jar was filled with olives and all the drinks consumed, the Irishman started to leave.
“S’cuse me”, said a customer, who was puzzled over what McQuillan had done, “what was that all about?”
“Nothin’,” said the Irishman, “my wife just sent me out for a jar of olives.”
I’ve Lost Me Luggage
An Irishman arrived at JFK Airport and wandered around the terminal with tears streaming down his cheeks. An airline employee asked him if he was already homesick.
“No,” replied the Irishman “I’ve lost all me luggage!”
“How’d that happen?”
“The cork fell out!” said the Irishman.
Irish Predicament
Drunk Ole Mulvihill (from the Northern Irish clan) staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional box, sits down but says nothing.
The priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the Ole just sits there.
Finally, the priest pounds three times on the wall.
The drunk mumbles, “Ain’t no use knockin’, there’s no paper on this side, either.”
Slainte!
Posted under europe, humor, st. patrick's day
portraying the irish as a ragged bunch of drinkers—i’m ashamed—a good clip upside the head is what you’d deserve there now James–i for one am proud to keep up the traditions—as tough as they may be—hope all was well for your St. Patrick’s celebrations—-keep up the good work–we love the site—slainte me brother!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!–p.s.—LETS GO METS!!!