St. Patrick Day Jokes

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
41

My pleasure, Mooney. Here are some more oldies but goodies:

The panhandler approached Ryan O’Donnell and started his sales pitch, but O’Donnell stopped him short.

“No, begorra, 'tis not me habit to hand out money in the street!”

“Then what am I supposed to do, guv’nor” countered the bum, “open an office?”

Paddy walks into his favorite pub and spies Mike sitting at the bar. “Michael, me lad,” says Paddy, “How are ye?”

“Not so well, Paddy,” says Mike. “I’ve come down with a turrible case o’ yourz.”

“Yourz?” says Paddy. “I’ve never heard o’ that. What’s yourz?”

“I’ll have a Guinness if ye please, and get one for yerself as well!”

Mike is visiting Paddy in jail, where Paddy is scheduled to be xecuted by electrocution that very night. He tries to talk to Paddy, but can’t think of a thing to say to console his friend. Finally visiting time is over and Mike hasn’t said a word. As a guard leads him away from Paddy’s cell an inspiration comes to him.

“Well, Paddy me boy,” he says with a big smile, “more power to yye!”

42

Guys and gals, try not to use a great day for us Irish as an excuse for cheap jabs at England. Regardless of the issues that exist in the world, and they get hijacked enough, it can be a bit unfair and could make some members of this board a bit uneasy.

If your going to have Irish jokes, keep them just to making fun of us Irish. After all, its the day thats in it. :slight_smile:

Right. now thats said, LETS GET PISSED! :D:D:D

43

Years ago, the chaplain of the football team at Notre Dame was a beloved old Irish priest. At confession one day, a football player told the priest that he had acted in an unsportsmanlike manner at a recent football game. “I lost my temper and said some bad words to one of my opponents.”

“Ahhh, that’s a terrible thing for a Notre Dame lad to be doin’,” the priest said. He took a piece of chalk and drew a mark across the sleeve of his coat.

“That’s not all, Father. I got mad and punched one of my opponents.”

“Saints preserve us!” the priest said, making another chalk mark.

“There’s more. As I got out of a pileup, I kicked two of the other team’s players in the in a sensitive area.”

“Oh, goodness me!” the priest wailed, making two more chalk marks on his sleeve. “Who in the world were we playin’ when you did these awful things?”

“Southern Methodist.”

“Ah, well,” said the priest, wiping his sleeve, “boys will be boys.”

44

Here’s my only Irish joke.

For St. Paddy’s day, a leprechaun goes into a bar in Indianapolis. He hops up on a barstool and orders a double Bushmill’s. He downs that, and he leaps up onto the bar. He whistles a little tune and dances down the bar. Most of the folks are amused at the sight, especially when he stops to lean over into someone’s face and does an odd thing. He shakes his head violently so his cheeks wobble, and makes a noise like, “Wubbawubbawubba!” He downs another whisky, and he dances down to a musclebound mountain of a man. After he wubbas the big guy, the brute grabs the wee chap by his shirt. “Get outta my face, shrimp, or I’ll knock your little dick off!”

Undaunted, he says, “That just shows how dumb you are. Leprechauns don’t have dicks!”

The big guy lets him go, and says, “No dick? How do you pee?”

The wee fella leans forward, and he says, “Wubbawubbawubbawubba!”

45

Davey Flynn is going down a railway track when he notices a train approaching behind him. He runs faster and faster, as fast as he can, but eventually he is caught by the train and finds himself in the hospital with four broken limbs. On treating his wounds, the nurse asks, “Davey, why didn’t you just run up the embankment to avoid the train?”

“You stupid woman,” retorts Davey. “If I can’t beat it on the flat, how will I beat it uphill?”

Paddy O’Shea got friendly with some of the local Boston Irish, and they took him to an upscale “Irish” pub.

“Amazin’, just amazin’, that’s what America is,” he said, looking with delight into his glass. “Never have I been seein’ an ice cube with a hole in it!”

“Oi sure have,” said his host, Michael Sullivan. “Bin married to one fer 15 year.”

Two Irishmen are sitting in a small town bar, where Mick bragged to Sean, “You know, I had me every woman in this town, except of course, me mother and me sister.”

“Well,” Sean replied, “between you and me we got 'em all.”

Mahoney said to his friend McMaken, “I haven’t been feelin’ meself lately!”

“Tis a good thing, too - that was a nasty habit you had!” responded McMaken.

46

Q: What’s the difference between a bagpipe and a trampoline?
A: You take your shoes off to jump on a trampoline.

47

Heck, the jokes about the Pope and the Queen, on the other thread, and about blowing up British rail tracks are the funniest jokes I’ve heard in years.
I didn’t get pissed when I read them. In fact I laughed.

48

An IRA soldier is confessing to a priest. “Last week I burned down a house full of Orangemen.”
“Yes, go on my son.”
“Yesterday I blew up an English tank.”
“Yes, go on my son”
“Well, aren’t you going to assign me penance?”
“I’m just waiting for you to stop bragging and confess your sins.”

49

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!”

50

Don’t forget that we across the pond also have some history with the English.

51

Yeah. And don’t forget that we across the pond mean something else by ‘pissed’.

:smiley:

52

Tom Dillon came home late from the pub with the latest joke to tell his Irish wife: that an Irish nymphomaniac is a woman who has an insatiable desire for sex at least once a year.

She did not laugh. Instead she informed him that an Irish homosexual was a man who preferred women to liquor.

53

Speak the following out loud until full understanding is reached…

  1. Hoof hearted, ice melted.

  2. Whale oil beef hooked.

54

Pat and Mike hated a particular sadistic member of the Royal Ulster Constabulary, so they decided to do him in.
They studied his movements and noted that each night, at 7 o’clock, he went to a certain pub for dinner and drinks. So they armed themselves and waited across the street.
Seven o’clock came and went, and the RUC member was nowhere to be seen. Then it was 7:30, then 8:00. Still no sign.
Pat turns to Mike and says, “I don’t know where he is.”
Mike turns to Pat and he says, “Gee, I hope nothing happened to him.”

55

Did you hear about the two Irish gay men?

Patrick FitzMichael and Michael FitzPatrick…

Do you know why Scotsmen wear kilts?

Sheep can hear a zipper a mile away…

Do you know why some Irishmen wear kilts?

The Scots have damned good hearing, too!!!

Cromwell’s army were sweeping across Erin’s Isle, crushing all before them. But they suddenly came to a grinding halt outside Cork city.

‘What’s the problem?’ demanded Cromwell.

‘It’s Big Mick the Prince of Cork, he’s over the hill in a cave and we can’t winkle him out!’ Just then Big Mick’s voice bellowed: ‘Oliver. Send in your toughest man to face me!’ So in was sent a sergeant who stood 6 foot 8 inches and weighed 300 lbs, armed to the teeth with sword, knife and pistols.

Ten seconds later a great cry of anguish was heard, followed by Big Mick shouting:

‘He’s a pussy cat, Oliver - send in your five next toughest men!’

In rode five armour-clad Ironsides, lances, swords and guns. A terrible screaming and wailing followed and again they heard Big Mick:

‘Come on, Ollie me boy - send in twenty of your toughest!’

Off rode the twenty, preceded by a salvo of cannon and a volley of musket fire. Again, a great screaming was heard followed by the sight of one Roundhead, bleeding head to foot. He crawled towards Cromwell gasping:

‘Sire, don’t send in any more men. It’s a trap - there’s two of them!’

-----------------------------------------------------------------------Casey had followed Murphy back to his flat. Drunkenly they’d stumbled the half mile from the Jolly Toper pub to celebrate Murphy’s birthday.

‘I’ve got it all organised,’ said he, ‘we’ll have a party just you and I.’

Entering the Murphy domicile Casey spotted the living room table covered in crates of beer and bottles of whiskey, brandy and rum. On a plate on the side were two slices of bread.

‘Is it a party we’re having?’ he asked.

‘It is so!’ answered Murphy.

‘Well,’ said Casey, ‘what’s all the bread for?’

O

56

Well, Murphy was staggering home trying to plan his entry, his excuse and his drunk condition.

Quietly, ever so gently, he eased open the front door and tiptoed into the hall. He was just in the process of removing his shoes when it happened. The cuckoo clock came to life and out popped the pesky creature cuckooing three times for three o’clock.

‘What to do?’ thought Murphy. Then all of a sudden - inspiration. ‘I’ll cuckoo another nine times and if she’s awake she’ll think it’s only midnight!’

So that’s what our hero did. It worked. No reaction from the missus. All was calm as he slipped quietly into bed.

But next morning brought a different picture. As Murphy’s head thumped its way back into the world from the oblivion of the night, the bedroom door swung ominously open. There stood the good lady hands on hips - steely-eyed.

‘And what time did you get in last night, dear?’ she asked.

‘Quite late, about midnight I think, love,’ said Murphy.

‘Well, when you get up I want you to have a look at that clock in the hall. Only last night, at midnight, the strangest thing happened. The clock cuckooed three times, then it coughed, belched, kicked the cat up the backside, and then cuckooed nine more times!’

O