Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place.
Looking up to heaven he said, “Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up Irish Whiskey”
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, “Never mind, I found one.”
——————–
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and says to the first man he meets, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
The man said, “I do Father.”
The priest said, “Then stand over there against the wall.”
Then the priest asked the second man, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
Certainly, Father,” was the man’s reply. “Then stand over there against the wall,” said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O’Toole and said, “Do you want to go to heaven?
O’Toole said, “No, I don’t Father.
The priest said, “I don’t believe this. You mean to tell me that when you die you don’t want to go to heaven?”
O’Toole said, “Oh, when I die, yes. I thought you were getting a group together to go now.
——————–
Paddy was in New York He was patiently waiting, and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, “Okay pedestrians”.
Then he’d allow the traffic to pass. He’d done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted “Pedestrians” for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, “Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?”
——————–
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend Finney.
Did you see the paper?” asked Gallagher. “They say I died!!”
Yes, I saw it!” replied Finney. “Where are ye callin’ from?”
——————–
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!”
——————–
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, “Pour me a stiff one – just had another fight with the little woman.”
“Oh yeah?” said Charlie “And how did this one end?”
“When it was over,” Mike replied, “she came to me on her hands and knees.
“Really,” said Charles, “now that’s a switch! What did she say?”
She said, “Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.”
——————–
Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, “You were drunk again last night weren’t you?”
Flynn said, “Why you say such a mean thing? “
Well,” Mary said, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly….it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.”
HER DIARY
Saturday night I thought he was acting strangely. We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friend all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment. Conversation wasn’t flowing so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk, he agreed but he kept quiet and absent. I asked him what was wrong he said nothing. I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said it had nothing to do with me and not to worry.
On the way home I told him that I loved him, he simply smiled and kept driving. I can’t explain his behavior; I don’t know why he didn’t say I love you too.
When we got home I felt as if I had lost him, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there and watched T.V. He seemed distant and absent.
Finally I decided to go to bed, about 10 minutes later he came to bed and to my surprise he responded to my caress and we made love, but I still felt that he was distracted and his thoughts were somewhere else. I decided that I could not take it anymore so I decided to confront him with the situation but he had fallen asleep. I started crying and cried until I too fell asleep. I don’t know what to do. I’m almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.
HIS DIARY
Played a horrible game of golf today! Shot a 95 – can’t putt for shit. Got laid though.
At the church’s husband’s marriage seminar, the Priest asked Luigi, on his upcoming 50th wedding anniversary, to take a few minutes and share some insight into how he managed to stay married to the same woman all these years.
Luigi replied to the audience “Well, I’v-a tried to treat-a her well, spend-a the money on her, but-a, da best-a is-a dat I took her to Italy for the 20th-a anniversary!
The Priest immediately commented, “Luigi, you are an amazing inspiration to all the husbands here! Please tell the audience what you are planning for your wife for your 50th anniversary…”
Luigi proudly replied, “I’m-a gonna go and-a get her.”
One dark night in the small town of Garfield, NJ, a fire started inside the local sausage factory. In a blink the building was engulfed in flames. The alarm went out to all the fire departments for miles around.
When the first volunteer fire fighters appeared on the scene, the sausage company president rushed to the fire chief and said, “All of our secret sausage recipes are in the vault in the center of the plant. They must be saved. I will donate $50,000 to the fire department that brings them out anddelivers them to me.”
But the roaring flames held the firefighters off. Soon more fire departments had to be called in because the situation became desperate. As the firemen arrived, the president shouted out that the offer to extricate the secret recipes was now $100,000 to the fire department that could save them.
Suddenly from up the road, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the fire engine of the nearby Lodi, NJ volunteer fire department composed mainly of Italian firefighters over the age of 65.
To everyone’s amazement, the little run-down fire engine, operated by these Italian firefighters, passed fire engines parked outside the plant, and drove straight into the middle of the inferno. Outside, the other firemen watched in amazement as the Italian old timers jumped off and began to fight the fire with a performance that was as if they were fighting to save their own lives. Within a short time, the Lodi old timers had extinguished the fire and saved the secret recipes.
The grateful sausage company president joyfully announced that for such a superhuman accomplishment he was upping the reward to $200,000, and walked over to personally thank each of the brave elderly Italian firefighters.
A TV news crew rushed in after capturing the event on film. The ‘on camera’ reporter asked the Italian fire chief, “What are you going to do with all that money?”
“Wella,” said Chief Pasquale De Luccinellavanti, the 70-year-old fire chief, “de fursta tinga we gonnna do isza fixa uppa de brakes on dat fockinna truck!!”
(4 votes, average: 4.50 out of 5)
Loading ...
(3 votes, average: 3.67 out of 5)
