I'm Irish Catholic myself (sorry: meself) so pour yourself a pint and lighten up!
These are actually old one, next batch will be better (if I can find 'em).
Only the Irish have Jokes Like These
> 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 *expletive deleted*it, 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 useless in a fight."
>
>
> ***************************************
>***************************************************** **************
> 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 somethin' 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 telling 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 truth, Tim.
> Did he at least go quickly?"
>
> "Well, Brenda... no. In fact, he got out three times to pee."
>
>
>
>
>************************************************************************************************************
> 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 that damn gun...'
>
>
>
>*********************************************************************************************************
>
> AND THE BEST FOR LAST
>
> A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church,
> enters a confessional booth, sits down, but says nothing.
> The Priest coughs a few times to get his
> attention but the drunk continues to s it there.
> Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall.
> The drunk mumbles, "Ain't no use knockin,
> there's no paper on this side either!"
>
