I heard this joke from two old gay Irish gentlemen I met in a Pub years ago, named Gerald Fitzpatrick and Patrick FitzGerald. It went a little like this:
In an Irish Pub in southie, these two old drunken Irish gents are at the bar. They strike up a conversation, and it soon becomes apparent they are both from the old country.
"Yer from the auld country are ya"?, sez one. " Oh yes, dear, yes, from the auld country", sez the other. "What part"?, sez the one. "From the south", sez the other. "G'wan", sez the first, "I'm from the south as well. What County"? "County Wicklow", sez the second. "G'wan again", sez the one, "I'm from Wicklow as well". "Tell me, what town are you from"? "Wicklow, by the sea", sez the second". "Now your pullin' me leg", sez the first. "Not a word o' lie", sez the second. "Wher'd'ja go to school"?, sez the one. "Saint Francis", sez the second. "Get out", sez the one, "Saint Francis on Trinity"? "The very same", sez two. "Saints be praised", sez the first, pray, on what street did'ye live"? "Why, on Kenny Street, of course". "Blessed be", sez the first..............
Meanwhile, another fellow enters the bar and fixes up to order a pint, and overhears the two old sops' conversation, which by this time was quite animated, and could be heard all around the bar.
"What's with those two"?, asks the fellow to the barteneder.
"Oh", he says, "that's the Flannigan Brothers, they're at it again.
Okay, it was better when Gerald told it.
2 comments:
Here's a good one . . .Paddy had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day and most of the night celebrating St. Patrick's Day. Mick, the bartender says, " You'll not be drinking anymore tonight Paddy. Paddy replies, "OK Mick, I'll be on my way then."
Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face. "Shoite" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off.
He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face, "Shoite, Shoite!"
He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and some fresh air he'll be fine.
He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto the sidewalk and falls flat on his face. "Bi'Jesus... I'm fockin' focked," he says.
He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls himself up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside.
He takes a look up the stairs and says "No fockin' way". He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says "I can make it to the bed."
He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face. He says "Fock it" and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says, "Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?".
Paddy says, "I did Jess. I was fockin' pissed. But how'd you know?"
"Mick phoned, . . . You left your wheelchair at the pub."
Now THAT is a funny fookin' joke!
Post a Comment