Sunday, October 23, 2005


More Irish

Two Irishmen were strolling down Fifth Avenue in New York when they walked past a bar...
Well, it could happen.
Peggy Noonan wrote that a well-balanced Irishman was one with a chip on each shoulder.
An Irish seven-course dinner: A baked potato and a six-pack of Guinness.
Oh, what's written on the bottom of a bottle of Guinness? "Open other end."
What's written on the cap? "See other end for instructions."
My favorite Irishman was one who was washed off a ship. He struggled with superhuman effort and swam and swam and swam and swam ... and finally reached some unknown shore. With his last ounce of strength, he pulled himself by his fingertips up onto the beach, barely reaching beyond high tide. After struggling to regain his breath, he raised his head and said, "If there's a government here, I'm against it."



Stranded on the proverbial desert isle with only a can of pork and beans among them were an engineer, an architect, and a Federal Reserve Board economist.
After drying out and resting, they began discussing how to open the can of beans.
The engineer said, "Oh, that's easy. We just build a fire under the can. As it heats, the contents will expand, and soon the can will burst open."
"Dumb," interrupted the architect. "All the beans will be scattered everywhere. First we should erect a building around the can so when it bursts the beans will be kept inside."
"No, no, no," said the Fed economist. "First we assume a can opener ..."



God was walking along, minding His own business, when a scientist jumped out at Him and sneered, "Hey, we don't need you any more."
God was, naturally, a little surprised, but responded, of course, politely. "What do you mean?"
The scientist said, "We don't need you. We don't. I mean, we can even create life, just as you did."
God rose to the challenge and said, "OK, let's have a showdown."
So God and the scientist met at a stadium. God reached down and picked up some dirt. The scientist reached down ...
And God interrupted, "Unh, unh, unh. Get your own dirt."


Changing light bulbs

After the first "How many Polacks does it take to change a light bulb," there came a veritable river of "how many ..." jokes.
How many he-men does it take ...?
How many Jewish mothers does it take ...?
How many psychiatrists ...?
How many preservationists ...?
How many bureaucrats ...?
This is your chance to tell the world your favorite "how many ..." joke.
Please don't use one that has as punchline "... and the rest to savor the experience."
And nothing that you wouldn't tell your very proper grandma or minister, please.
Please feel free to supply the punchline to any of the above, too.

Monday, June 27, 2005


I'll see you in ... Where?

One day, God was out surveying His realm and he wandered into the North 40. And He saw something that made him Angry: The fence between His property and The Other Guy's had been moved, nearly 100 feet further in!
Oh, He was Mad, and when He looked over the fence he saw The Other Guy watching.
God said majestically, "Move that fence back where it belongs."
TOG just grinned.
God, Fuming, said, "MOVE that FENCE back WHERE it beLONGS!"
The former angel just ... dare we say it? ... thumbed his nose at God!
Oh, God was really Steaming now. He said, gritting His teeth, "You better move that fence or I'll ... I'll ... I'll ..."
And Satan was grinning even more. "You'll what?" he sniggered cockily. "You'll what?"
God managed to snarl, "I'll SUE!"
And the ol' devil just rolled around on the ground, he was laughing so hard. "Where are You gonna get a lawyer?"

Thursday, June 16, 2005


Silence is ... green?

Christian O'Sullivan had been hailed the most intelligent Irish man for three years running. He had won the top prizes on all the Irish game shows. It was suggested by the Irish Mensa board that he should enter into the English Mastermind Championships. He did, and won a place.
On the evening of the competition, Christian enters from the crowd and places himself on the leather seat and makes himself comfortable. The lights dim and a spot light points at his face.
The host says, "Christian, what subject are you studying?"
Christian responds, "Irish history."
"Very well" says the host, "your first question: In what year did the Easter Rising take place?"
Christian responds, "Pass."
"OK," says the host, "who was the leader of the Easter Rising?"
Christian responds, "Pass."
The host tries again: "How long did the Easter Rising last?"
Christian responds, "Pass"
A voice shouts from the crowd, "Good man, Christian. Tell the English nothing!"

Friday, May 27, 2005


A tulip by any other ...

An all-female Bluegrass band from San Francisco took on the perfect name, The Good Ol' Persons.
A club of Jewish motorcycle riders from New Jersey is named Hillel's Angels. Their ride of choice is Harley ben Davids.
When I saw a sign for an out-of-business optometrist's office that read "Currier," I suggested it might be thriving if it had been named "Currier and Eyes."


How do you steam a clam?

1) Insult his mother.

2) Tell him his politics is nutty.

3) Laugh at his religion.

4) Have him write an intelligent, literate, reasonable, correctly spelled Letter to the Editor of the Chattanooga Times Free Press and then read the indecipherable, moronic mess the mis-called "copy editor" makes of it.

Monday, May 09, 2005


Manifest Destiny

NASA, preparing for the Apollo project, did some astronaut training on some Navajo Indian reservation land.
One day, an elderly Navajo and his son were herding sheep nearby and came across the space crew. The old man, who only spoke Navajo, asked a question, which the son translated: "What are the guys in the big suits doing?"
A member of the crew said they were practicing for their trip to the moon.
The old man got really excited and asked if he could send a message to the moon with the astronauts.
Recognizing a promotional opportunity for the spin-doctors, the NASA folks found a tape recorder. After the old man recorded his message, they asked the son to translate. He declined, apparently embarrassed.
So the NASA reps brought the tape to the reservation headquarters at Window Rock, where the elected leaders of the tribe listened and laughed, but they also refused to translate the elder's message to the moon.
Finally, NASA called on an official government translator from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. He reported that the message to the moon said: "Watch out for these guys; they've come to steal your land."

Monday, May 02, 2005


Blew notes

When a certain famous jazz musician bought several agricultural acres, he raised the eyebrows of his bucolic neighbors when they found out he fed his bovine creatures ink.
He explained later, when he got back to the band circuit, "The best part of farming, I found, was when the cows mooed indigo."

Thursday, March 17, 2005


Green and bear it

The Sligo-born Father O'Morrison's reputation for castigating the Brits from the pulpit was legendary. However, the congregation in his new parish of Boston, Mass., tired of his lambasting the Brits for the horrors they had inflicted upon the Irish for generations.
Ultimately, the Archbishop opted to send the good father to a small hamlet in the far reaches of Tennessee where, His Grace said, "The folks know nothing of England and care less. So knock off the Brit bashing and you'll better serve Holy Mother Church."
Several weeks later, when Father O'Morrison stood at the pulpit to deliver his first sermon to his new congregation, the local bishop, who knew of O'Morrison's reputation, was in attendance to check up on him.
"My dear brethren," Father O'Morrison began, "this morning I'd like to talk about The Last Supper."
Not bad, though the bishop. Safe enough ground.
"Now, the lesson to be learned from The Last Supper, where Christ knew He'd been betrayed, is that the sin of betrayal is the worst sin of all. A sin never forgiven by God or man," thundered Father O'Morrison.
Fair enough, thought the bishop.
"Christ looked around at His apostles. 'Was it you, Peter,' He asked, 'who betrayed me?' 'Not I, my Lord,' answered Peter.
"'Was it you, John?' 'Not I, my Lord.'
"Christ asked each of them in turn and finally came to Judas, who was sitting at the end of the table, his head bowed. 'Was it you, Judas, who betrayed me?' asked Christ, and Judas responded, 'Wot? Me? Blimey! Not on yer bloody life, Mi'lud.'"

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