Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, the day when everybody is, at least a little bit, Irish. A day which, in spite of it being the Lenten season, is a day for feasting and dancing and wearing of the green and, of course, having a bit of the “water of life.” I confess that I believe myself to be only about 27% Irish (I haven’t had my DNA analyzed, but my sister did and that’s what it said for her, so I’m guessing that my DNA would test out similarly. In any event, it would appear that I have at least some heritage from “the Ould Sod.” I will admit that I’m more likely to have a glass of Guinness than of Irish whiskey, but to each his/her own.
For whatever reason, the day seemed worthy of some recognition, so I though I’d pull together a “wee bit of a post” in honor of the occasion. Nothing very serious, just some fun stuff I’ve found with an Irish theme. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks with more usual commentary.
I saw this somewhere on the Internet and thought it was amusing.
For whatever reason, the day seemed worthy of some recognition, so I though I’d pull together a “wee bit of a post” in honor of the occasion. Nothing very serious, just some fun stuff I’ve found with an Irish theme. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks with more usual commentary.
I saw this somewhere on the Internet and thought it was amusing.
This MAY be a bit much, but it does conform to what people think about the Irish (especially on St. Patrick’s Day). And who says that it’s only people of color who have been discriminated against? Only people who don’t know their history!
Of course, jokes about the Irish and drinking have been around a long time. Here’s a couple I have enjoyed, in spite of the fact that they are demeaning, sexist, and/or have other not nice qualities. I still think they are funny and think it’s too bad that everyone has to be so “politically correct” that there’s little left in the way of traditional joke material, so we, as a society have been reduced to ridiculing individuals because it’s “not correct” to poke fun at groups. I’m not sure I see the logic in that, but what the heck, I still think these are funny.
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!
One can’t poke fun at the Irish without mentioning Catholics, so here’s a story which I like a lot:
The wise old Mother Superior from County Tipperary was dying.
The nuns gathered around her bed trying to make her comfortable.
They gave her some warm milk to drink, but she refused it. One of the nuns took the glass back to the kitchen.
Remembering a bottle of Irish whiskey received as a gift the previous Christmas, she opened it and poured a generous amount into the warm milk.
Back at Mother Superior's bed, she held the glass to her lips. Mother Superior drank a little, then a little more. Before they knew it, she had drunk the whole glass down to the last drop.
"Mother," the nuns pleaded, "Please give us some wisdom before you pass."
She raised herself up in bed with a pious look on her face and said: "Don't sell that cow."
I read that this story happened a long time ago in Dublin, and even though it’s a bit hard to believe, the word is that it really happened. I can’t verify that, but it does seem possible.
John Bradford, a Dublin university student, was on the side of the road hitch-hiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm.
The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him.
Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped. John, desperate for shelter and without thinking about it got into the car and closed the door… only to realize there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn’t running.
The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a curve approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the curve, a hand appeared out of nowhere through the window, and turned the wheel. John, paralyzed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him.
Shortly thereafter, John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength, he jumped out of the car and ran to it…. Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had.
A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realized he was crying… and wasn’t drunk.
Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John, were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other….
“Look Paddy… there’s that fooking idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it.”
Happy St Paddy’s Day! I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.
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!
One can’t poke fun at the Irish without mentioning Catholics, so here’s a story which I like a lot:
The wise old Mother Superior from County Tipperary was dying.
The nuns gathered around her bed trying to make her comfortable.
They gave her some warm milk to drink, but she refused it. One of the nuns took the glass back to the kitchen.
Remembering a bottle of Irish whiskey received as a gift the previous Christmas, she opened it and poured a generous amount into the warm milk.
Back at Mother Superior's bed, she held the glass to her lips. Mother Superior drank a little, then a little more. Before they knew it, she had drunk the whole glass down to the last drop.
"Mother," the nuns pleaded, "Please give us some wisdom before you pass."
She raised herself up in bed with a pious look on her face and said: "Don't sell that cow."
I read that this story happened a long time ago in Dublin, and even though it’s a bit hard to believe, the word is that it really happened. I can’t verify that, but it does seem possible.
John Bradford, a Dublin university student, was on the side of the road hitch-hiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm.
The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him.
Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped. John, desperate for shelter and without thinking about it got into the car and closed the door… only to realize there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn’t running.
The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a curve approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the curve, a hand appeared out of nowhere through the window, and turned the wheel. John, paralyzed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him.
Shortly thereafter, John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength, he jumped out of the car and ran to it…. Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had.
A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realized he was crying… and wasn’t drunk.
Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John, were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other….
“Look Paddy… there’s that fooking idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it.”
Happy St Paddy’s Day! I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.
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