|It was a fine summer evening at the local pub in Dublin. The bar was about half full. In one corner two fellows sat drinking pints. One fellow asks the other "Now where are ya from, me lad?"|
The second fellow replies "County Cork."
The first fellow is amazed "Why that`s were I hail from too! What may be your family name, then?"
The second chap says "It be none other than O`Brien"
"Why that is my clan, too. What a small world. And to what school did you go?"
"I went to St. Brigits."
"My God, So did I!!" exclaimed the first fellow loudly.
"So then, in what fine year did you graduate?"
"1954" "Incredible, so did I!..."
The local bobby (are they called that in Ireland?) stopped in around then to say hello to the bartender. "Every thing OK, Michael?"
"Yes," the bartender replied, "things are pretty normal - the O`Brien wins are drunk again!"
|A drunken man staggers in to a Catholic church and sits down in a confession box and says nothing. The bewildered priest coughs to attract his attention, but still the man says nothing. The priest then knocks on the wall three times in a final attempt to get the man to speak. |
Finally, the drunk replies, No use knocking, there`s no paper in this one either.
|Two drunks are walking along. One drunk says to the other,
"What a beautiful night, look at the moon." |
The other drunk stops and look at his drunk friend. "You are wrong, that`s not the moon, that`s the sun."
Both started arguing for a while when they come upon another drunk walking, so they stopped him. "Sir, could you please help settle our argument? Tell us what that thing is up in the sky that`s shining. Is it the moon or the sun?"
The third drunk looked at the sky and then looked at them and said, "Sorry, I don`t live around here
|The preacher was having a heart-to-heart talk with a backslider of his
flock, whose drinking of moonshine invariably led to quarreling with his
neighbors, and occasional shotgun blasts at some of them.|
"Can`t you see, Ben," intoned the Parson, "that not one good thing comes out of this drinking?"
"Well, I sort of disagree there," replied the backslider.
"It makes me miss the folks I shoot at."