St Paddy's Own JOW

Seeing as it is St Patrick’s Day I thought I should have a few jokes at the expense of the Irish. Here are six (or seven) topical jokes


Irish priests are always good for a bit of fun.

Father McGee walked into the church and spotted a man sitting cross-legged on the altar.
'My son,' said the holy man, 'what are you doing? Who are you?'
'I'm God,' said the stranger.
'Pardon?'
'I'm God,' he repeated. 'This is my house!'
Father McGee ran into the presbytery and, in total panic, rang the archbishop.
'Your reverence,' said he, 'I hate to trouble you, but there's a man sitting on me altar who claims he's God. What'll should I do?'
Take no chances,' said the archbishop. 'Get back in the church and look busy!'

Not exactly Irish, but this one will do.

An elderly businessman buys a large house. The house is situated on a cliff overlooking the sea. One evening, the old gentleman is out for his usual walk before going to bed. The evening is a very blustery one. He ventures a little too close to the cliff's edge, loses his footing and falls over the brink.
Fortunately, he is able to grasp a very slender sapling that is growing out of the cliff, which stops his fall. The old gentleman hangs there for a few moments, terribly shaken. Eventually he calls out, "Is there anybody there?"
At once a Great Voice seem to fill the whole of the firmament. It comes out of the clouds, out of the sea and out of the cliff itself. It says in measured tones,
"There is always someone up here, my son. All that you need to do is release your hold upon that small tree and you will descend safely to the shore below."
The old gentleman considers this for a moment and takes a look down at the jagged rocks 200ft below him. Then he looks up again and says, "Is there anybody else up there?"

Irishmen and Whisky: a natural mix.

Two Irishmen, Patrick Murphy and Shawn O'Brian grew up together and were lifelong friends. But alas, Patrick developed cancer, and was dying. While on his deathbed, Patrick called to his buddy, Shawn, "O'Brian, come 'ere. I 'ave a request for ye." Shawn walked to his friend's bedside and kneels.
"Shawny ole boy, we've been friends all our lives, and now I'm leaving 'ere. I 'ave one last request fir ye to do."
O'Brian burst into tears, "Anything Patrick, anything ye wish. It's done."
"Well, under me bed is a box containing a bottle of the finest whiskey in all of Ireland. Bottled the year I was born it was. After I die, and they plant me in the ground, I want you to pour that fine whiskey over me grave so it might soak into me bones and I'll be able to enjoy it for all eternity."
O'Brian was overcome by the beauty and in the true Irish spirit of his friend's request, he asked, "Aye, tis a fine thing you ask of me, and I will pour the whiskey. But, might I strain it through me kidneys first?"

Or the Irish and beer

Three men walk into a bar: a Frenchman, an Italian and an Irishman. Each orders one beer. Three flies fly into the bar and one fly lands in each man's beer.
The Italian man plucks the fly out of his beer, says "tutto e bene" (all is well)" and drinks the beer.
The Frenchman shows his beer with the bug still inside it to the bartender and demands another beer.
The Irishman yanks the bug out of the beer, grabs it by it's wings, shakes it while yelling
"Cough it up, you little theivin' bastard!"

Or the Irish and Guinness Stout

One night, Mrs Mcmillen answers the door to see her husbands best friend, Paddy, standing on the doorstep,
"Hello Paddy, but where is my husband, he went with you to the beer factory" Paddy shook his head
"Ah Mrs Mcmillen, there was a terrible accident at the beer factory, your husband fell into a vat of Guinness stout and drowned"
Mrs Mcmillen starts crying
"Oh don't tell me that, did he at least go quickly?"
Paddy shakes his head
"Not really, he got out 3 times to pee"

(Or alternately: “No, they kept try’n to rescue him, but he bravely fought them off.)

Finally this one is from Pammy

Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run over by a train.
His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp.
"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.
" Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy.
" That little shite, O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."
" That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it."
" Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you have something in your hand?"
" That I did," said Paddy.
"Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."