Monday, March 16, 2015

Too Bad It's Monday Humor + KATZ

Mike loved Mary. Mary loved Mike. The problem was that Mike was Orange and Mary was Green. Like a Romeo and Juliet, their love could go no further unless one of them converted. So Mike, being a manly type (and not too religious at any time) went to Father Tim and told the priest he wanted to convert from Protestantism to Catholicism.

In due time, after much instruction and lots of questions, Mike traded his Orange coat for a Green one and Father Tim cheerfully officiated at the wedding of Mary and Mike.

Shortly after the wedding, Mike dropped by to see Father Tim. “I’ve a problem,” he confessed. “I keep forgetting that now I am Catholic and not Protestant.”
“That’s easily solved, lad,” Father Tim said. “From now on I want you to say over and over in your mind ‘I’m a Catholic, not a Protestant.’”

Mike agreed to follow the formula and left the priest’s study saying over and over, “I’m a Catholic, not a Protestant.”

Later in the week, on Friday to be exact, Father Tim decided to drop in on the newly weds and see how they were doing. He found Mary sitting in the parlor knitting. After asking after her, Father Tim said, “And where, Mary, is your manly husband?”

“Mike’s in the kitchen cooking our supper,” Mary replied. “Won’t you go back and say ‘hello,’ Father?”

So Father Tim walked toward the kitchen and as he approached his nose recognized a smell that should be found in no good Catholic home on a Friday. When he turned the corner into the kitchen, Father Tim was confronted by the sight of Mike standing over the stove spooning gravy over a huge beef steak.
As he spooned, Mike was chanting, “You’re a trout, not a steak. You’re a trout, not a steak. You’re a trout, not a steak.”

An Irishman moves into a tiny hamlet in County Kerry, walks into the pub and promptly orders three beers. The bartender raises his eyebrows, but serves the man three beers, which he drinks quietly at a table, alone.

An hour later, the man has finished the three beers and orders three more. This happens yet again. The next evening the man again orders and drinks three beers at a time, several times. Soon the entire town is whispering about the Man Who Orders Three Beers.

Finally, a week later, the bartender broaches the subject on behalf of the town. "I don't mean to pry, but folks around here are wondering why you always order three beers?"

"'Tis odd, isn't it?" the man replies. "You see, I have two brothers, and one went to America, and the other to Australia. We promised each other that we would always order an extra two beers whenever we drank as a way of keeping up the family bond."

The bartender and the whole town were pleased with this answer, and soon the Man Who Orders Three Beers became a local celebrity and source of pride to the hamlet, even to the extent that out-of-towners would come to watch him drink.
Then, one day, the man comes in and orders only two beers. The bartender pours them with a heavy heart. This continues for the rest of the evening. He orders only two beers. The word flies around town. Prayers are offered for the soul of one of the brothers.

The next day, the bartender says to the man, "Folks around here, me first of all, want to offer condolences to you for the death of your brother. You know-the two beers and all...."

The man ponders this for a moment, then replies, "You'll be happy to hear that my two brothers are alive and well. It's just that I, meself, have decided to give up drinking for Lent."

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've 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?"

A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink.

"Why of course," comes the reply.

The first man then asks: "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Ireland," replies the second man.

The first man responds: "You don't say. I'm from Ireland too! Let's have another round to Ireland."

"Of Course," replies the second man.

Curious, the first man then asks: "Where in Ireland are you from?"

"Dublin," comes the reply.

"I can't believe it," says the first man. "I'm from Dublin too! Let's have another drink to Dublin."

"Of course," replies the second man.

Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: "What school did you go to?"

"Saint Mary's," replies the second man. "I graduated in '62."

"This is unbelievable!" the first man says. "I went to Saint Mary's and I graduated in '62, too!"

About that time in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar. "What's been going on?" he asks the bartender.

"Nothing much," replies the bartender. "The O'Malley twins are drunk again."

An Irishman goes to the doctor for his wife's test results.

Mr. O’Rourke: "I'm here for Mrs. O’Rourke’s test results."

Receptionist: "Oh, I'm sorry Mr. O’Rourke, there's been a problem. We have two sets of test results for a Mrs. O’Rourke and we don't know which belongs to your wife..... I'm afraid it's bad news or terrible news. One test shows Alzheimer's Disease, the other shows Aids!"

Mr. O’Rourke: "That's awful! What should I do?"

Receptionist: "The doctor suggests you drop her off in the middle of town. If she finds her way home, don't shag her."

A Belfast man was ashamed of his accent, and decided to go to elocution lessons in London. Three years later he was speaking perfect BBC English, and he decided to return home and celebrate with a drink. He caught the Shuttle to Belfast, got a taxi into the city and walked into the first establishment he came to.

'I say, old chap,' he said to the proprietor, 'perhaps you could furnish me with a large gin and tonic and one of your finest Havana cigars.'

'You're from around these parts, aren't you?' said the proprietor.

'Good grief,' said the stunned Belfast man. 'How did you know that?'

'Well, you see,' said the proprietor, 'this is a butcher's.'

The first says: "Aye, this is a nice bar, but where I come from, there's a better one. At MacDougal's, you buy a drink, you buy another drink, and MacDougal himself will buy your third drink!"

The second then starts: "That sounds like a nice bar, but where I come from, there's a better one called Quinns. At Quinns, you buy a drink, Quinn buys you a drink. You buy another drink, Quinn buys you another drink."

Then the third pipes up. "You think that's good? Where I come from, there's this place called Murphy's. At Murphy's, they buy you your first drink, they buy you your second drink, they buy you your third drink, and then, they take you in the back and get you laid!"

"Wow!" say the other two. "That sounds fantastic! Did that actually happen to you?"

"No," replies their friend, "but it happens to me sister all the time!"

A wedding occurred, just outside Cavan in Ireland. To keep tradition going, everyone got drunk and the bride's and groom's families have a storming row and begin wrecking the reception room and generally kicking the crap out of each other.

The Police get called in to break up the fight. The following week, all members of both families appear in court. The fight continues in the court room until the Judge finally brings calm with the use of his hammer, shouting "Silence in Court."

The court room goes silent and Paddy (the best man) stands up and says, "Judge.. I was the best man at the wedding and I think I should explain what happened."

The Judge agrees and asks Paddy to take the stand. Paddy begins his explanation by telling the court that it is traditional in a Cavan wedding that the Best Man gets the first dance with the Bride. The judge says "OK."

"Well", said Paddy, "after I had finished the first dance, the music kept going, so I continued dancing to the second song, and after that the music kept going and I was dancing to the third song… when all of a sudden the Groom leapt over the table, ran towards us and gave the Bride an unmerciful kick in her privates."

The Judge instantly responded... "God.. that must of hurt!"

Paddy replies "HURT!.. He broke three of my fingers."

In Dublin's fair city, when I was a kitty,
I first cast my gaze on sweet Molly Malone,
I was but a kitten, but I was quiet smitten,
With her cockles and mussels
Alive alive-o

alive alive-o, alive alive-o
sparing cockles and mussels
alive alive-o

She was a fish monger
feeding cats who did wander
just like her father and mother before
and they all wheeled their barrows
feeding cats fat and narrow
sharing cockles and mussels
Alive alive-o

She died of a fever, nine lives couldn't save her
the cats we did mourn for sweet Molly Malone
now her ghost wheels her barrow
feeding cats fat and narrow
sharing cockles and mussels
Alive alive-o




No comments:

Post a Comment