Posted on 03/17/2018 8:05:25 AM PDT by Kaslin
It's always grand in March of every year to pour myself a pint of Guinness and enjoy the glorious Irish wit.
It's my good fortune to be a fellow of Irish descent. I share my good fortune with a quarter of all Americans, who can trace their heritage to the rolling, green hills of Ireland - including my Uncle Mike, rest his soul, whose grandparents came to America from Ireland.
As a lad, I loved the way he and my father celebrated St. Patrick's Day: by swapping the same Irish jokes and witticisms that I've been retelling for years.
Such as the one about a famous Irish dancer who decided to go to confession one Saturday.
Father Sullivan began asking her about her work. She explained that she was an acrobatic dancer, but the priest didn't know what she meant.
"I'll show you, father," she said.
She stepped out of the confessional and went into a series of cartwheels, handsprings and backflips.
An elderly woman turned to another parishioner and said: "Look at the penance Father Sullivan is givin' out, and me without 'me' bloomers on!"
Catherine McHugh writes for biography.com that "the Irish indisputably have a way with language, as countless phrases and sayings born on the Emerald Island have been quoted across the world."
She shares some of the most memorable witticisms from famous Irish writers, politicians and entertainers, such as these two lines from the great writer Oscar Wilde:
"Be yourself; everyone else is taken."
"The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple."
Playwright George Bernard Shaw spoke one of my all-time favorites: "A government that robs from Peter to pay Paul can always count on the support of Paul."
He also coined this well-remembered line: "Youth is wasted on the young."
Playwright Sean O'Casey offers a clever take on a famous Shakespeare quote: "The world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed."
The great satirist Jonathan Swift offers sound advice: "May you live all the days of your life."
And Irish footballer George Best celebrates the Irish wit in all its glory with a line that made me laugh out loud: "In 1969, I gave up women and alcohol. It was the worst 20 minutes of my life."
According to author Bob Callahan in a Salon article, the Irish influence on American culture is considerable.
The melodies of the Irish fiddle were blended with the rhythms of African music to give birth to today's popular music.
Irish vaudevillians, masters of knockabout physical comedy, influenced early Hollywood filmmaking and even gave birth to the newspaper comic strip.
But it is the mischievousness of the Irish spirit and wit - the "hard-boiled, darkly humorous, racetrack bitten" language of the Irish - that really benefited America.
Irish spirit and wit were the precursors to "brilliant, wisecracking Irish-Americans," who were precursors to the gregarious American spirit and sense of humor that are among our most treasured resources.
We sometimes take ourselves too seriously and lose our sense of humor - we sometimes get lost in the narrowness of our own point of view.
Well, St. Patrick's Day is a great day to pour yourself a pint of Guinness, and to feed and nurture our badly-needed sense of humor - because nothing helps people get along better than a hearty laugh.
Which reminds me of one joke that I am confident we can all agree on:
Q: Why are Irish jokes so simplistic?
A: So Congress can understand them.
“Shore and where will I find a band at three o’clock in the morning? “
Favorite Irish joke:
There was this Irishman who walked out of a bar.
Irish seven-course banquet: a boiled potato and six pints of Guinness.
The Irish Daley’s who ruled Chicago were no joke.
“It’s always grand in March of every year to pour myself a pint of Guinness and enjoy the glorious Irish wit.”
And the other 364 days of the year.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all the Irish here [and there!]. Many of my in-laws were/are at least part Irish, so I have lots of Irish relatives.
MARK
When people ask me why I don’t wear green on St Paddy’s Day I tell them I’m Irish everyday. :-)
What’s the difference between an Irish Wedding and an Irish Wake?
One less drunk.
I am a proud Irish descendent of that famous Irish outdoorsman Paddy o’ Furniture.
Nor was Tammany Hall in New York. All democrats and all thugs.
I like his line, "I spent a lot of money on booze, birds [women] and fast cars. The rest I just squandered."
My mother was half Irish and half English. She always fought with herself.
—————— Me circa 1978
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qqs4EbU02As
...One day my ma’s relations came round to visit me
Just as my father’s kinfolk were all sittin’ down to tea
We tried to smooth things over, but they all began to fight
And me being strictly neutral, I bashed everyone in sight!
Oh it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen...
Thanx went to my FB page. If I could drink and dance I would be doing it. Maybe in my mind now.
African? The Irish and Scots melodies and the fiddle gave rise to Bluegrass and country music!
________________
An Irishman Walks into a Bar…
An Irish guy started to frequent a corner tavern. Each day, he sits at the bar, keeps to himself and orders two shots of whiskey. He slowly sips each whiskey, alternating a sip from one glass and then from the other. When he is finished sipping both whiskies, he gets up and leaves.
After a few weeks of watching this daily routine, one of the regulars ventured to ask the Irishman why he always drinks this way.
“I miss me brother in Ireland,” he explained. “It’s many a year we had a drink together every day at the pub. Now that I’m here in America, havin’ the two drinks lets me feel a bit each day that I’m still sharing a drink with me brother.”
A logical explanation. But one day in the spring, the Irishman came and sat by himself, as usual; and only ordered one drink. He paused between sips like before, but never ordered the second shot.
After several days of this new behavior, the bar’s regulars started to wonder — maybe the brother had died? Or was there some kind of a ”falling out”?
Concerned, one of the regulars asked the Irishman why he was now having just one drink - had something happened to his brother?
“Me brother is just fine, thanks,” said the Irishman. “But I myself am givin’ up whiskey for Lent.”
________________
Donation
Father O’Malley answers the phone.
“Is this Father O’Malley?”
“Indeed it is.”
“This is the IRS. Can you help us?”
“Indeed I can.”
“Is one Francis X. McGarrity a member of your parish?”
“Indeed he is.”
“Did he donate $10,000 to the church?”
“Indeed.”
“Indeed what, Father?”
“Indeed he will!”
________________
HOSPITAL BILL
Houlihan suffered a serious heart attack at the pub. The barkeep called an ambulance.
The unconscious Houlihan was rushed to the nearest Catholic hospital.
He awakened from open heart surgery to find a nun seated next to his bed, holding a clipboard and a pen.
“D’ye have health insurance?” she asked.
“No,” rasped Houlihan.
The nun inquired further, “D’ye have any money in the bank?”
Houlihan replied, “No. No money in the bank.”
“Sure an’ ye have a relative who could help with the payments?” queried the nun.
“I have one sister, but she’s a poor spinster,” Houlihan replied, adding, “She’s a nun.”
“Nuns are not spinsters!” snapped the nun indignantly. “Nuns are married to God!”
“Fine ‘n’ dandy,” said Houlihan. “Send the bill to my brother-in-law.”
________________
Irish Confession…
I went into the confessional box after many years of being away from the Catholic Church. Inside I found a fully equipped bar with Guinness on tap. On one wall, there was a row of decanters with fine Irish whiskey and Waterford crystal glasses. On the other wall, a dazzling array of the finest cigars and chocolates.
When the priest came in, I said to him, “Father, forgive me, for it’s been a very long time since I’ve been to confession, but I must first admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be.
He replied, “You moron, you’re on my side.”
______________________________
Some Light Dublin Traffic Humour…
A car full of Irish nuns is sitting at a traffic light in downtown Dublin when a bunch of rowdy drunks pull up alongside of them.
“Hey, show us yer teets, ya bloody penguins,” shouts one of the drunks.
Shocked, Mother Superior turns to Sister Mary Immaculata and says, “I don’t think they know who we are; show them your cross.”
Sister Mary Immaculata rolls down her window and shouts, ”Piss off, ye fookin’ wankers, before I come over there and rip yer balls off.”
She then rolls up her window, looks back at Mother Superior and asks, “Did that sound cross enough?”
______________________________
Paddy was driving home, drunk again, when suddenly he has to swerve to avoid a tree, then another, then another. A police car pulls him over as he veers about all over the road. Paddy tells the cop about all the trees in the road. Cop says “For God’s sake Paddy, that’s your air freshener swinging about! ”
______________________________
Reilly went to trial for armed robbery. The jury foreman came out and announced, “Not guilty.”
“That’s grand!” shouted Reilly. “Does that mean I get to keep the money?”
______________________________
Murphy: My wife is driving me to drink.
Quinn: Yer very lucky. My wife makes me walk.
______________________________
Mrs. Feeney shouted from the kitchen, ”Is that you I hear spittin’ in the vase on the mantlepiece?”
“No,” said himself, “but I’m gettin’ closer all the time.”
______________________________
Finnegan: My wife has a terrible habit of staying up ‘til two o’clock in the morning. I can’t break her out of it.
Keenan: What on earth is she doin’ up at that time?
Finnegan: Waitin’ for me to come home!
______________________________
Kevin phoned the maternity ward at the hospital. “Quick!” he said. “Send an ambulance, my wife is havin’ the baby!”
“Tell me, is this her first baby?” the intern asked.
“No,” said Kevin. “This is her husband, Kevin, speakin’.”
______________________________
Paddy tells the bartender he’s had enough. He slides off the bar stool, crawls out the doorway, crawls up the bedroom steps and heaves himself into bed.
Next morning his wife wakes him and says, “You ended up in the pub again last night.”
“And how do you know that?” he said.
“You forgot your wheelchair.”
______________________________
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 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 utterly useless in a fight.”
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