'Twas the Night After Christmas
'Twas the night after Christmas and all through the trailer, the beer had gone flat and the pizza was staler. The tube socks hung empty, no candies or toys and I was camped out on my old Lay-Z-Boy.
The kids they weren't talking to me or my wife, the worst Christmas they said they had had in their lives. My wife couldn't argue and neither could I, so I watched TV and my wife, she just cried.
When out in the yard the dog started barkin', I stood up and looked and I saw Sheriff Larkin. He yelled, "Roy I am sworn to uphold the laws and I got a complaint here from a feller named Claus."
I said, "Claus, I don't know nobody named Claus, and you ain't taking me in without probable cause." Then the Sheriff he said, "The man was shot at last night." I said, "That might have been me, just what's he look like."
The Sheriff replied, "Well he's a jolly old feller, with a big beer gut belly, that shakes when he laughs like a bowl full of jelly. He sports a long beard, and a nose like a cherry." I said, "Sheriff that sounds like my wife's sister Sherri."
"It's no time for jokes Roy" the Sheriff he said. "The man I'm describing in dressed all in red. I'm here for the truth now, it's time to come clean. Tell me what you've done, tell me what you've seen."
Well I started to lie then I thought what the hell, it wouldn't have been the first time that I've spent New Years in jail. I said, "Sheriff it happened last night about ten, and I thought that my wife had been drinking again."
When she walked in from work she was as white as a ghost. I thought maybe she had seen one of them UFO's. But she said that a bunch of deer had just flown over her head, and stopped on the roof of our good neighbour Red.
Well I ran outside to look and the sight made me shudder, a freezer full of venison standing right on Red's gutter. Well my hands were a shakin' as I grabbed my gun, when outta Red's chimney this feller did run.
And slung on his back was this bag over flowin'. I thought he stolen Red's stuff while old Red was out bowling'. So I yelled, "Drop fat boy, hands in the air!" But he went about his business like he hadn't a care.
So I popped a warning shot over his head. Well he dropped that bag and he jumped in that sled. And as he flew off I heard him extort, "That's assault with intent Roy, I'll see ya in court."
The above document was written by By Jeff Foxworthy. |
'Twas the Night before Finals
T'was the night before finals,
And all through the college,
The students were praying
For last minute knowledge.
Most were quite sleepy,
But none touched their beds,
While visions of essays
Danced in their heads.
Out in the taverns,
A few were still drinking,
And hoping that liquor
Would get their brains thinking.
In my own apartment,
I had been pacing,
Dreading all those exams
I soon would be facing.
My roommate was speechless,
His nose in his books,
And my comments to him
Drew unfriendly looks.
I drained all the coffee,
And brewed a new pot,
No longer caring
That my nerves were shot.
I stared at my notes,
But my thoughts were all muddy,
My eyes went a'blur,
I just couldn't study.
"Some pizza might help,"
I said with a shiver,
But each place I called
Refused to deliver.
I'd pretty much concluded
Life is unfair and cruel,
Since our futures all depend
On grades made in school.
When all of a sudden,
Our door opened wide,
And Patron Saint Put-It-Off
Ambled inside.
Her spirit was careless,
Her manner was mellow,
She looked at the mess
And started to bellow:
"Why should us students
Make such a fuss,
About what those teachers
Toss out to us?"
"On Cliff Notes! On Crib Notes!
On Last Year's Exams!
On Wingit and Slingit,
And Last Minute Crams!"
Her message delivered,
She vanished from sight,
But we heard her laughing
Outside in the night.
"Your teachers won't flunk you,
So just do your best.
Happy Finals to All,
And to All, a good test." |
A geek's list of thanks
1. Be thankful you haven't been spammed!
2. Be thankful your computer isn't down!
3. Be thankful your favorite forum isn't down!
4. Be thankful you don't have The Good Times virus!
5. Be thankful your server isn't down!
6. Be thankful for a vast selection of Web sites to browse!
7. Be thankful no one knows who you really are!
8. Be thankful someone sent you a cyber sundae, and you didn't gain a pound!
9. Be thankful your 28 year old cyberfriend really isn't 72!
10. Be thankful for a fast Internet connnection!
11. Be thankful no one sent you a cyber voo-doo doll! |
A man forgot to buy turkey for Thanksgiving
It's the day before Thanksgiving, and the butcher is just locking up when a man begins pounding on the front door.
"Please let me in," says the man desperately. "I forgot to buy a turkey, and my wife will kill me if I don't come home with one."
"Okay," says the butcher. "Let me see what I have left." He goes into the freezer and discovers that there's only one scrawny turkey left. He brings it out to show the man.
"That's one is too skinny. What else you got?" says the man.
The butcher takes the bird back into the freezer and waits a few minutes and brings the same turkey back out to the man.
"Oh, no," says the man, "That one doesn't look any better. You better give me both of them!" |
A Martha Stewart Christmas
Dear Santa:
I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply.
I want to slap Martha Stewart.
Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with gracious living.
We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18-carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with turmeric. Most of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out what to do with it.
OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet with all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with Martha in last week's USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough room on the page for her ego.
We discovered that not only does Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's only ordered it once), she refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is Martha Stewart living?) When it was pointed out that she could microwave it, she replied, "I don't have a microwave."
The reporter, Jeffrey Zaslow, noted that she said this "in a tone that suggests you shouldn't either."
Well, lah-dee-dah. Imagine that, Santa!
That lovely microwave you brought me years ago, in which I've learned to make complicated dishes like popcorn and hot chocolate, has been declared undesirable by Queen Martha. What next? The coffee maker?
In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes adorning an entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell "overkill"? And neatly put away, no less. If my dishes make it to the dishwasher that qualifies as "put away" in my house!
Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for friends. "Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone," she boasts. Not just scarves mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back. In fact, she does so with such frequency that one has to wonder if her back is black and blue.
She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is glamour for the 90s," and says her most glamorous friends are "interested in stain removal, how to iron a monogram, and how to fold a towel." I have one piece of advice, Martha: "Get new friends."
Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past the Greek Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets. They step out for the evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked away by tuxedoed chauffeurs. They do not spend their days pondering the finer art of toilet bowl sanitation. Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of America's 25 most influential people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother Theresa, Madeline Allbright and Maya Angelou, no doubt).
The proof of Martha's influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches in the supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant, they were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a bridge.
A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to rollerblade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for breakfast.
This confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along: She's obviously got too much time on her hands. Teaching the dogs to rollerblade. What a show off.
If you think the dogs are spoiled, listen to how Martha treats her friends: She gave one friend all 272 books from the Knopf Everyman Library. It didn't cost much. Pocket change, really. Just $5,000. But what price friendship, right?
When asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy me. I'm doing this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy teachers. You should listen to them." Zaslow must have slit a seam in Martha's ego at this point, because once the hot air came hissing out, it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever is nothing despicable. It is only admirable. Never lower your standards," says Martha.
And of her Web Page on the Internet, Martha declares herself an "important presence" as she graciously helps people organize their sad, tacky little lives. There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this year.
You probably want to smack her yourself. |
A Microsoft Christmas
NORTH POLE (API) - MICROSOFT announced an agreement with Santa Claus Industries to acquire Christmas at a press conference held via satellite from Santa's summer estate somewhere in the southern hemisphere. In the deal, Microsoft would gain exclusive rights to Christmas, Reindeer, and other unspecified inventions. In addition, Microsoft will gain access to millions of households through the Santa Sleigh.
The announcement also included a notice that beginning Dec 9, 1998, Christmas and the Reindeer names would be copyrighted by Microsoft. This unprecedented move was facilitated by the recently acquired MS Court. Microsoft stated its commitment to "all who have made Christmas great," and vowed to "make licensing of the Christmas and Reindeer names available to all." It is believed that the guidelines for licensing these names, due before Halloween, will be very strict.
When asked "Why buy Christmas?" Bill Gates replied "Microsoft has been working on a more efficient delivery mechanism for all of our products for some time, but recognized that the Santa Sleigh has some immediate benefits. We'll use it first for the next release of Windows and Office 98."
In a multimedia extravaganza, the attendees were shown a seemingly endless video stream of products that make up the deal. It ended with a green and red version of the Microsoft logo, and a new Christmas 98 trademark, leading into the announcement of the first product from the deal.
Vixen, the new Director of Holidays and Celebrations said, "The first step is to assimilate Christmas within the Microsoft Organization. This will take some time, so don't expect any changes this year." She continued, "our big plans are for next year, when we release Christmas 99. It will be bigger and better than last year." She further elaborated that "Windows 95 users who sign up with MS Network will get sneak previews of Christmas[99] as early as November first."
Christmas 98 is scheduled for release in December of 1998, though one unnamed source said that it is dangerously close to the end of the year and may slip into the first half of 1999. An economist at Goldman Sachs explained that a slip would be catastrophic to next year's economy and the nation's tax revenue, possibly requiring the IRS to move the deadline for filing income tax returns to three months after Christmas, whenever that was. "But it could be good in the long term," he explained. "With Microsoft controlling Christmas, we may see it move to May or June, which are much slower months for retailers. This may serve to even out the economy over the year."
When asked if other holidays are being considered, Mr. Gates explained that "Christmas is the flagship of holidays, so we wanted to start there. Not all holidays are available for sale, and the remaining will have to show a good long-term business," suggesting that holidays with a short history may not be in the plans.
Though specific terms of the agreement were withheld, a Santa official confirmed that the deal was "sizeable, even for a man of Santa's stature."
Some analysts think that Santa has saturated the Holiday market, and is looking for a means to expand his business to year 'round products and services. Others contend that the Jolly Red Man is looking to retire in Redmond.
A spokesperson for the most famous Reindeer could not be reached for comment. |
A parent's night before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,
In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."
The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
While Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
A kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat....
Let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
If we can't get it right, it goes in the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear,
But 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named,
So if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
All over the carpet they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
With "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
Before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
And not have to run to the store for a thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
For the perfect, most perfect, Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland and sweet repose I gratefully went,
Though I suppose there's something to say for those self-deluded...
I'd forgotten that batteries are never included! |
Addicted to the Web
(Sung to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")
Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin',
From my mouth, drool is glist'nin',
I'm happy -- although
My boss let me go --
Happily addicted to the Web.
All night long, I sit clicking,
Unaware time is ticking,
There's beard on my cheek,
Same clothes for a week,
Happily addicted to the Web!
Friends come by; they shake me, Saying, "Yo, man!
Don't you know tonight's the senior prom?"
With a listless shrug, I mutter "No, man;
I just discovered laugh-a-lot-dot-com!"
I don't phone, don't send faxes,
Don't go out, don't pay taxes,
Who cares if someday
They drag me away?
I'm happily addicted to the Web!
Happ-ilyyyyy, ad-dict-eeeed to the Weeeeeb!!! (Yeah!) |
Amusing Humor about the Irish
O'Toole volunteered to take care of his numerous children so that Mom could have an evening out. At bedtime he sent the youngsters upstairs to bed and settled down to read. One child kept creeping down the stairs, but O'Toole kept sending him back up.
At 10 o'clock the doorbell rang. It was the next door neighbor, Mrs. O'Brien. She asked if her son was there and O'Toole said no. Just then a little head appeared over the banister and a voice shouted. "I'm here Mom, but he won't let me go home."
"And how much of that stack of hay did you steal, Kavanaugh?" the priest asked at confession.
"I might as well confess to the whole stack, your Reverence," said Kavanaugh. "I'm goin' after the rest of it tonight!" |
Amusing Jokes about the Irish
Mrs. Ryan, a mean looking woman, claimed her husband was not thoughtful. In this she was wrong; her husband thought about her too much. One morning on his way to work, he thought about her so much that he got off the subway at 34th Street and went to the Greyhound Terminal and took a bus to Yuma, Arizona.
Murphy and his wife, a middle-aged couple, went for a stroll in the park. They say down on a bench to rest. They overheard voices coming from a secluded spot. Suddenly Mrs. Murphy realized that a young man was about to propose.
Not wanting to eavesdrop at such an intimate moment, she nudged her husband and whispered, "Whistle and let that young couple know that someone can hear them."
Murphy said, "Whistle? Why should I whistle? Nobody whistled to warn me." |
An Internet Christmas
T'was the Internet Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Net,
There were hacker's a surfing. Nerds? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens,
While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack,
We just settled down at my rig (it's a Mac).
When out in the Web there arose such a clatter,
I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash,
Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!!
I gasped at the thought and started to grouse,
Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Mac jumped to a page that wasn't quite clear.
When the image resolved, so bright and so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came,
Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name;
"Now Compaq! Now Acer!", my speaker did reel;
"On Apple! On Gateway!" Santa started to squeal!
"Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip!
Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!"
The screen gave a flicker, he was into my "Ram",
Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes,
Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).
He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack.
Santa looked like a dude who was rarin' to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno!
This ain't the same Santa that I used to know!
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke,
And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.
He defragged my hard drive, and added a "Dimm",
Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim!
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew!
He distorted some pictures with Kai's Power Goo!
He updated Office, Excel and Quicken,
Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape,
As he added the latest version of Netscape.
The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased,
St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose,
Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!
He flew back into my screen and through my uplink,
Back into the net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
"Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!" |
Billy Gates writes to Santa
Dear Santa,
How are you doing? I hope you've had a successful year and have come up with a lot of interesting toys. It's really neat how you're able to do that year after year. I guess that's how you stay number one in the Christmas presents business business.
Actually, I admire the way you run Christmas. You really have a handle on it. You find out what people want (with letters like this and having kids tell you in person), and then you make the presents and control how they are delivered. It's an impressive operation.
I also like how you've got it to where when somebody says "Christmas presents," people automatically think Santa Claus. What a marketing advantage. Best of all, even though you're a huge success, people still don't know much about your private life. It's just rumors. That's so neat.
I think being at the North Pole helps. That was a good move. For example, when you're designing toys, only your elves know what you're doing, and you're way up there where nobody can spy on you and steal your ideas. And even if they do, you can always just let it out that you're making the same stuff to bring to people for free, so why would they buy the other guy's stuff?
Also, other people who make Christmas presents can't deliver them like you can. Yours is the only sleigh on the distribution highway. You must get some great discounts from them, because if they don't play ball you can just refuse to give out their presents. Very Sharp.
What I don't get is why you give away stuff. That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard. I admit, its why you're number one- who could compete with a deal like that? But it must make it hard to stay in business, especially when you have to visit every kid in the world. You have to keep growing or fail.
Here's an idea on how you can help finance your operation: Give everybody at least one present at Christmas, then you could make batteries and sell them the rest of the year. It would create a demand: You give people something and then sell them what they need to make it work.
Another thing, about you coming down the chimney. That's so slow and inefficient. And what about all the people who don't have chimneys? Santa. I have one word for you--windows. Everybody has windows.
That's about all I have to say. You're probably wondering if I was good or bad this year, but I don't really like to talk about my personal life, if that's O.K. (Just out of curiosity: When you were a boy, did any of the other kids call you a nerd?) Anyway, I don't really have anything to ask for. Mostly I think up something to play with and then build it myself. I guess I'm sort of like you--I make my own toys.
Best of luck,
Billy Gates |
Bought a lousy tree
Signs you've got a bad christmas tree
8. Two feet tall, forty feet wide
7. Salesman's opening line: "You're not a cop, are you?"
6. It looks suspiciously like a broom handle with a lot of coat hangers
5. While you sleep, it gets liquored up and takes the family caravan for a joy ride.
4. Each branch has "Duraflame" printed on it.
3. It's very small and says "air freshener" on it.
2. Rabbis have better Christmas trees than yours.
1. Constantly bragging about its "trunk size" |
Christmas downsizing
Today's global challenges require the North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps. Effective immediately, the following economy measures are to take place in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" subsidiary:
The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree never turned out to be the cash crop forecasted. It will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance.
The two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not be condoned. The positions are therefore eliminated.
The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French.
The four calling birds were replaced by an automated voice mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long they talked.
The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology stocks appear to be in order.
The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day is an example of the decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will assure management that from now on every goose it gets will be a good one.
The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. Their function is primarily decorative. Mechanical swans are on order. The current swans will be retrained to learn some new strokes and therefore enhance their outplacement.
As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching.
Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps.
Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords plus the expense of international air travel prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant because we expect an oversupply of unemployed congressmen this year.
Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cut back on new music and no uniforms will produce savings which will drop right down to the bottom line.
We can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals and other expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved.
Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association seeking expansion to include the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), action is pending.
Lastly, it is not beyond consideration that deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to stay competitive. Should that happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs is the right number. |
Clean Humor about the Irish
It seems three Irishmen, Sean, Michael and Tim, passed over at the same time. Upon encountering the Pearly Gates, they were met by ST. Patrick himself, and he addressed the boys thusly: "Lads, I'm here to welcome you to heaven where you will spend eternity. Just remember one thing, when you go through these gates, don't step on any of the ducks or you'll be punished for eternity. Sean went in first and was amazed to see that the entire ladscape was encompassed by ducks, and try as he might, sure enough he stepped on one. He was immediately joined by one of the homliest colleens he's ever laid eyes on, and she said,"Well love, you stepped on a duck and now we're together for all time."And of course the exact same thing happened to Michael only his companion was even the worse for wear. By this time Tim was absolutely terrified. And he gingerly managed to make it most of the way across the court without stepping on a single duck. Suddenly, his arm was taken by a young lass. Tim looked over and beheld the most beautiful, graceful, blue-eyed woman he's ever seen in all his life. He gasped, "I don't understand it!" The young beauty answered, "Well I'm sure I don't either, I was walking along minding my own business, when all of a sudden I stepped on a duck."
Irishman, Englishman and a German are caught in Saudi Arabia drinking. "Under Saudi law you are sentenced to 30 lashes then deported. Before you begin you are entitled to something on you back, what would you like?" said the prison guard to the Englishman just before lashing him. The English man, being a bit of a cricket fan, asked for linseed oil. When they lashed him on a post and let him go to catch his flight back to London he groaned and crawled to the airport. Next came the German. "Under Saudi law you are sentenced to 30 lashes then deported. Before you begin you are entitled to something on you back, what would you like?" said the prison guard "Nothing" said the German and, after receiving his lashes spat on the ground, called the prison guards Schisers and started off towards the airport. The guards then came to the Irishman. "Under Saudi law you are sentenced to 30 lashes then deported. Before you begin you are entitled to something on you back, what would you like?" "Oh", replied the Irishman, "I'll take the German". |
Clean Ireland Humor
An English man and an Irish man are driving head on , at night, on a twisty, dark road. Both are driving to fast for the conditions and collide on a sharp bend in the road. To the amazement of both, they are unscathed, though their cars are both destroyed. In celebration of their luck, both agree to put aside their dislike for the other from that moment on. At this point, the Irish man goes to the boot and fetches a 12 year old bottle of Jameson whiskey. He hands the bottle to the English man, whom exclaims,'' may the English and the Irish live together forever, in peace, and harmony.'' The English man then tips the bottle and lashes half of it down. Still flabbergasted over the whole thing, he goes to hand the bottle to the Irish man, whom replies: '' no tanks, I'll just wait till the Garda get here!''
Pat was found dead in his back yard, and as the weather was a bit on the warm side, the wake was held down to only two days, so his mortal remains wouldn't take a bad turn. At last his friends laid him in the box, nailed it shut & started down the hill into the churchyard. As it was a long, sloping path and the mourners were appropriately tipsy, one fellow lurched into the gatepost as they entered the graveyard. Suddenly a loud knocking came from in the box. Paddy was alive! They opened the box up and he sat up, wide eyed, and they all said, Sure, it's a miracle of God! All rejoiced & they went back and had a few more drinks but later that day, the poor lad died. Really died. Stone cold dead. They bundled him back into his box, and as they huffed and puffed down the hill the next morning, the priest said, "Careful now, boys; mind ye don't bump the gatepost again" |
Clean Jokes about Ireland
An American and an Irishman were enjoying a ride in the country when they came upon an unusual sight - an old gallows. The American thought he would have a joke on his Irish companion. "You see that, I reckon," said he to the Irishman, pointing to the gallows. "And now where would you be if the gallows had its due?" "Riding alone," coolly replied Paddy.
An Englishman, a Scotsman and an Irishman were without tickets for the opening ceremonies of the summer Olympics but hoped to be able to talk their way in at the gate. Security was very tight, however, and each of their attempts was met with a stern refusal.
While wandering around outside the stadium, the Englishman came upon construction site, which gave him an idea. Grabbing a length of scaffolding, he presented himself at the gate and said, "Johnson, the pole vault," and was admitted.
The Scotsman, overhearing this, went at once to search the site. When he came up with a sledge hammer, he presented himself at the gate and said, "McTavish, the hammer." He was also admitted.
The Irishman combed the site for an hour and was nearly ready to give up when he spotted his ticket in. Seizing a roll of barbed wire, he presented himself at the gate and announced, "O'Sullivan, fencing." |
Clean Jokes about the Irish
Murphy said to his daughter, "I want you home by eleven o'clock."
She said, "But Father, I'm no longer a child!"
He said, "I know, that's why I want you home by eleven."
MacAndrews was visiting his Irish cousin, O'Bannon. While there he decided to do a bit of fishing. As he sat there on afternoon, his cousin walked by.
"What are ye doing?" asked O'Bannon.
"Fishin'," said MacAndrews.
"Caught anything?"
"Ach, nae a bite,"
"What are ye usin' fer bait?"
"Worms"
"Let me see it," said O'Bannon.
MacAndrews lifted the line from the water and handed it to his cousin. O'Bannon took out his flask of potcheen and dipped the worm in it. He handed it back to MacAndrews, who cast his line once more. As soon as the worm hit the water, his rod bent over double, the line screaming out.
"Have ye got a bite?" asked O'Bannon.
"No!" shouted MacAndrews, fighting with the rod, "The worm's got a salmon by the throat!" |
Clean St. Patrick's Day Humor
In hearing an Irish case of assault and battery, counsel, in cross examining one of the witnesses, asked him what they had the first place they stopped at.
"Four glasses of ale," was the reply.
"Next?"
"Two glasses of whiskey."
"Next?"
"One glass of brandy."
"Next?"
"A fight."
In West Kerry, the wife commented, "When we were first married, you took the small piece of steak and gave me the larger. You don't love me any more...."
"Nonsense, darling," replied the husband, "you cook better now." |
Clean St. Patrick's Day Jokes
An Irish priest and a Rabbi get into a car accident. They both get out of their cars and stumble over to the side of the road. The Rabbi says, "Oy vey! What a wreck!" The priest asks him, "Are you all right, Rabbi?" The Rabbi responds, "Just a little shaken." The priest pulls a flask of whiskey from his coat and says, "Here, drink some of this it will calm your nerves." The Rabbi takes the flask and drinks it down and says, "Well, what are we going to tell the police?" "Well," the priest says, "I don't know what your aft' to be tellin' them. But I'll be tellin' them I wasn't the one drinkin'."
Casey and Riley agreed to settle their dispute by a fight, and it was understood that whoever wanted to quit should say "Enough." Casey got Riley down and was hammering him unmercifully when Riley called out several times, "Enough!" As Casey paid no attention, but kept on administering punishment, a bystander said, "Why don't you let him up? Don't you hear him say that he's had enough?" "I do," says Casey, "but he's such a liar, you can't believe him. |
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