Irish
Jokes
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 me Irish Whiskey".
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, "Never mind, I found one."
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 got 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 right now."
been stealing the wood and selling it. At last his conscience began to
bother him and he went to confession to repent.
"Father, it's 15 years since my last confession, and I've been stealing wood from the lumber yard all those years," he told the priest.
"I understand my son," says the priest. "Can you make a Novena?"
O'Toole said, "Father, if you have the plans, I've got the lumber."
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?"
"Did you see the paper?" asked Gallagher. "They say I died!!"
"Yes, I saw it!" replied Finney. "Where are ye callin'
from?"
A man in Topeka, Kansas, decided to write a book about churches around the world. He started by flying to San Francisco, and working east from there. Going to a very large church, he began taking photographs and making notes. He spotted a golden telephone on the vestibule wall and was intrigued with a sign which read "$10,000 a minute." Seeking out the pastor he asked about the phone and the sign. The pastor said this golden phone is, in fact, a direct line to Heaven and if he pays he can talk directly to God. The man thanked the pastor and continued on his way.
As he continued to visit churches in Seattle, Virginia, Michigan, Chicago, Milwaukee, and all around the world, he found more phones, with the same sign, and the same answer from each pastor.
Finally, he arrived in Ireland. Upon entering a church in Dublin, behold, he saw the usual golden telephone. But THIS time, the sign read "Calls: 35 cents."
Fascinated, he asked to talk to the pastor. "Reverend, I have been in cities all across the world and in each church I have found this golden telephone and have been told it is a direct line to Heaven and that I could talk to God, but, in the other churches the cost was $10,000 a minute. Your sign reads 35 cents a call. Why?
The pastor, smiling benignly, replied, "Son, you're in Ireland now....it's a local call."
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"
Farmer McCarthy lived for many years with only his dog for a companion.
One sad day he found his dog dead from old age. He went to his parish
priest and asked if services could be said for his dog. The good father
said "Oh no, we can't have services for a dog here, but there's a
new church down the street that might be willing."
"Father do you think $50,000 might be enough of a donation?"
asked farmer McCarthy.
"Well man," said his pastor, "why didn't you tell me your
dog was a Catholic!!!?"
Father O'Malley rose from his bed. It was a fine spring day in his new
Washington, DC parish. He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a
deep breath of the beautiful day outside.
He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front
lawn. He promptly called the US Senate for assistance.
The conversation went like this: "Good morning. This is Senator Daschle.
How might I help you?"
"And the best of the day te yerself. This is Father O'Malley at St.Brigid's.
There's a jackass lying dead in me front lawn. Would ye be so kind as
to send a couple o' yer lads to take care of the matter?"
Senator Daschle, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a
smirk, "Well now father, it was always my impression that you people
took care of last rites!"
There was dead silence on the line for a long moment. Father O'Malley
then replied: "Aye, that's certainly true, but we are also obliged
to notify the next of kin.
Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady after his Sunday morning
service, and she's in tears.
He says, "So what's bothering you, Mary my dear?"
She says, "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news. My husband passed
away last night."
The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, Mary, did
he have any last requests?"
She says, "That he did, Father..
" The priest says, "What did he ask, Mary?
" She says, "He said, 'Please Mary, put down the gun...'
An Irishman who had a little too much to drink is driving home
from the city one night and, of course, his car is weaving violently all
over the road.
A cop pulls him over. "So," says the cop to the driver, where
have ya been?
"Why, I've been to the pub of course," slurs the drunk.
"Well," says the cop, "it looks like you've had quite
a few to
drink this evening."
"I did all right," the drunk says with a smile.
"Did you know," says the cop, standing straight and folding
his
arms across his chest, "that a few intersections back, your wife
fell
out of your car?"
"Oh, thank heavens," sighs the drunk. "For a minute there,
I thought I'd
gone deaf."
Brenda O'Malley is home making dinner, as usual, when
Tim Finnegan arrives at her door.
"Brenda, may I come in?" he asks. "I've something to tell
ya."
"Of course you can come in, you're always welcome, Tim. But where's
my
husband?"
"That's what I'm here to be tellin' ya, Brenda.
"There was an accident down at the Guinness brewery..." "Oh,
God
no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me."
"I must, Brenda. Your husband Shamus is dead and gone. I'm
sorry." Finally, she looked up at Tim. "How did it happen, Tim?"
"It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of Guinness Stout
and drowned.
"Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me true, Tim. "Did he
at
least go quickly?"
"Well, no Brenda... no. Fact is, he got out three times to pee."
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