Category Archives: Irish humor
Funny Irish Drinking Stories, Limericks, Irish Proverbs and Irish Blessings – Video
I have decided to add the category of limericks to our Irish drinking stories, blessings and proverbs. Ireland does not have a corner on the limerick market, but Ireland has certainly contributed its share in that area. I have always enjoyed limericks, so I hope that you, too, will like the additional fun.
As Father Fitzgerald was walking down the street in Dublin, he spied across the way young Michael Donovan, a small boy living in his parish. Michael was at the door of a home across the street attempting to push the doorbell.
But young Michael is on the short side and the doorbell, which is a bit on the high side, was simply too high for him to reach no matter how hard he stretched. Father watched young Michael stretch and strain toward the bell for a short time, but the bell drew no closer to the small child‘s fingers.
Father Fitzgerald strode quickly across the street ending up directly behind Michael standing at the door. While gently placing his hand on the small child’s shoulder, the good man of God bent lower and gave the doorbell a firm, hard ring.
Then, squatting down lower to young Michael’s height, Father Fitzgerald smiled knowingly and asked, “And now what, my young man?”
“Now, Fadder?” replied Michael grinning, “Now we run!”
Limericks
Epitaph on a tombstone somewhere in Pennsylvania:
Here lies the body
of Jonathan Blake,
Stepped on the gas
instead of the brake.
Another epitaph in a cemetery in Thurmont, Maryland:
Here lies an Atheist
All dressed up
And no place to go.
A true Irishman considers a bore to be someone who constantly interrupts.
A true Irishman considers anyone who won’t come around to his point of view to be hopelessly stubborn.
(Aha! Now I know where I got that trait!)
A true Irishman has so much respect for the truth that he uses it only in emergencies.
The three elderly Gallagher sisters have never married, they go everywhere together and they are all hard of hearing. One windy Spring day as they are walking down the streets of Dublin…
Mary Elizabeth says, “Whew, it is sure windy today.”
Molly replies, “No, no. Today is Thursday.”
Kathleen says, “So am I. Let’s find a bar!
Whenever I dream,
It seems I dream
Of Erin’s rolling hills
Of all its lovely, shimmery lakes
And little babbling rills.
I hear a colleen’s lilting laugh
Across a meadow fair.
And in my dreams
Its almost seems
To me that I am there
O, Ireland! O, Ireland!
We’re Never far apart
For you and all your beauty
Fill my mind and touch my heart.
May the love and protection
Saint Patrick can give
Be yours in abundance
As long as you live.
‘Twas late one Saturday night, when the local Garda (police officer) spied Timothy O’Carroll driving in quite a meandering fashion along the streets of County Cork. After pulling him over, the policeman asked O’Carroll if he had been drinking that night.
“Who told on me?” asked Timothy. “Well, so I have, occifer. So I have,” continued the thoroughly drunk O’Carroll. “It’s Saturday night, you know. Me and me lads, we made a stop by the pub, but I only had six or seven pints, that’s all.”
“But then they had somethin’ called ‘Happy Hour’ during which they served these delicious margaritos, or margaritas? Anyway they are quite good. I had four…no five of those. Then I had promised to drive O’Hara, me friend, home, and he invited me in. Well, I had to go in for a couple pints of Guinness. I really couldn’t be rude, now occifer, Could I? Of course, on the way home I stopped to get another pint for later…”
At that point Timothy began fumbling around inside his coat and suddenly lifted up a bottle of whiskey for the Garda to inspect.
The policeman gave a deep sigh, saying “Sir, you will need to step out of the vehicle to take a breathalyzer.”
Indignantly, O’Carroll replied, “Why? Don’t you believe me?”
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Some days you’re the dog, other days the hydrant.
Another Limerick
There once was an old man of Lyme
Who married three wives at a time.
When asked, “Why a third?”
He replied, “One’s absurd!
And bigamy, sir, is a crime.”
Brian O’Connell drives a double-decker bus through the streets of Dublin. One day a very drunk Timothy Fogarty climbed aboard Brian’s bus taking a seat on the bottom deck near Brian. As you may or may not know, Brian is required not to allow any drunks onto his bus, but today he felt rather light-hearted so he decided to allow the inebriated Fogarty remain on board.
As is his wont when he has had a few Timothy began talking a mean streak, which induced Brian to suggest that Timothy should sit on the upper deck.
“The air up there is clean and fresh, and you will get a much improved view,” encouraged Brian.
Fogarty agreed and stumbled his way up top. However, he returned in only a few minutes.
“What’s wrong?” Brian asked. “Didn’t you like it better up there?”
Timothy replied, “It’s okay. But it’s too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous?” queried Brian. “How is that?”
“There’s no driver,” answered Fogarty.
At the very next stop two more drunks climbed on board the bus. The first drunk was Bill O‘Brien and the second was Tommy Lynch. Bill asked driver O‘Connell, “Will this bus take me to 35th Avenue?”
“No, it won’t,” answered Brian.
After a short pause, Tommy Lynch asked, “What about me?”
For our video today we present the voice of Orla Fallon of Celtic Woman singing “Isle of Inisfree:”
Yet More Irish Drinking Stories, Proverbs and Blessings – Thank You
Wild Weekend
Timothy Byrne spent last weekend all the way over in America in Las Vegas. Believe it or don’t, he won over $100,000, playing mostly at the dice tables.
Knowing that all of his friends and relations would be trying to borrow money from him if they knew about his good fortune, he contemplated what he should do with his new found wealth. Upon arriving home late at night, he immediately went into the darkness of his backyard, where he dug a hole and buried the money.
Upon awakening the next morning he was feeling very chipper about his winnings, so he decided to take a quick look in his yard to check on the security of his money. When he arrived at the burial site, all he found was an empty hole.
Enraged and beside himself, Timothy fell upon the ground in despair. As he lay on the lawn he noticed a fresh layer of dew on the grass, and in that dew were footprints.
Timothy quickly jumped up and followed the footprints to the house next door, where an Asian immigrant, new to the country, had recently moved.
Timothy knew the immigrant spoke only his native language, but he also had seen the language professor from across the street speaking to the immigrant. He ran into his house, fetched his revolver and quickly darted over to the professor’s house.
Forcing open the professor’s door, Timothy charged inside and dragged the professor out of bed. Even though she was still in her nightgown, the professor immediately complied because the entire neighborhood was well aware of Timothy’s vile temper and what he might do while enraged.
Timothy pulled the professor still in her bare feet across the street to the immigrant’s house and burst through the front door. Timothy placed his revolver up to the immigrant’s head and said to the professor, “Tell this guy that if he doesn’t give me my money back right now, I’ll kill him.”
At that point Timothy cocked his pistol which was pointed directly at the immigrant’s temple.
Seeing the fear in the immigrant’s eyes the professor quickly relayed Timothy’s threat to him. The immigrant was very afraid for he immediately responded that he hid the money in his back yard under the wood pile.
The professor turned to face Timothy and translated, “He said he’s not going to tell you. He said he would rather die first.”
To Happiness:
Health and long life to you.
The wife of your choice to you.
A child every year to you,
And life without rent to you
And may you be half an hour in heaven
Before the devil knows your dead.
A true Irishman sees things not as they are, but as they will never be.
At the Race Track
Kathleen O’Halloran and Molly McGraw, two of County Cork’s most honored teachers, were escorting a large group of 2nd, 3rd, and 4th graders on a field trip. They were going to the local race track to learn about the racing industry and most importantly about thoroughbred horses.
As the day wore on, naturally, the children needed to use the facilities. Kathleen O’Halloran escorted the girls to the ladies room and Molly McGraw took the boys to the men’s room.
While Molly was waiting outside the men’s room for the boys, one of them came out to her and said, “Ms. McGraw, we need help. We’re all too short to reach the urinal.”
Because there was no alternative, Molly went inside the men’s room and started lifting each one up high enough to use the urinal. The first boy immediately began spraying his all over the place, so Molly also had to “grab onto” each boy’s unit to prevent them from getting their clothes wet.
While she lifted one of the larger boys, she immediately noticed that he was rather well endowed. Molly wanted to avoid staring so she said to him, “You must be in the 4th.”
“Na, ma’am,” he replied. “I’m in the 6th, riding Golden Fleece, but thanks for the lift.”
A true Irishman gets more Irish the farther he gets from Ireland.
A Prayer for Humor:
Grant me a send of humor, Lord,
the saving grace to see a joke,
To win some happiness from life,
And pass it on to other folk.
Patty Takes a Lover
That naughty Patty Murphy has been seeing another man during the day while her hard working husband, Thomas, is out earning wages. One day her 8-year-old son, Michael, arrives home early from school quite unexpectedly, and bounds up to the master bedroom looking for his mum. The boy catches Patty and her lover in bed together, so Patty quickly pushes Michael into the closet and shuts the door because she doesn‘t know what else to do.
Just at that moment, as fate would have it, her hard working husband, Thomas, also comes home early unexpectedly seeking a little afternoon rendezvous with his wife. Thomas is downstairs shouting, “Patty, I’m home. Where are you, my love?”
Patty nervously pushes her lover into the closet with Michael.
The little boy quietly says, “Dark in here.”
Patty’s lover quietly replies, “Yes, it is.”
Michael whispers, “I have a skateboard.”
Says the lover, “That’s nice.”
Michael senses an opportunity and asks, “Want to buy it?”
“No, thanks,” answers the lover.
“But, my dad’s outside,” counters Michael in a slightly louder voice.
The lover catches on and quietly asks, “Ah! I see! How much?”
Michael replies, “Only $500.”
Two weeks later the same thing happens all over again. Michael and the lover are again inside the closet together.
Says Michael quietly, “Dark in here.”
The lover whispers, “Yes, it is.”
Michael quietly says, “I have a helmet.”
The lover, recalling the blackmail from last time, asks the enterprising boy, “I’ll bet you do. How much?”
Michael replies, “Just $300.”
“Fine,” replies the lover.
Just a few days later Thomas, the father, says to Michael, his son, “Go get your helmet and skateboard so you can show me how well you ride.”
Michael replies, “I can’t, Dad. I sold them.”
Says Michael, “$800.”Thomas asks, “What! How much did you sell them for?”
Thomas replies, “Michael, that’s a terrible thing to overcharge your friends like that. That is much more than they are worth. We’re going to church and you are going to confess to Father O’Hara.”
At the church Thomas takes Michael to the confessional and tells the lad to go inside, shutting the door behind him.
Once inside the dark confessional Michael says, “Dark in here.”
Father O’Hara replies, “Don’t start that crap again.”
A Blessing for Luck
May your pockets be heavy,
Your heart be light
And may good luck pursue you
Each Morning and night.
Any Irish lad or lass will tell you how they remember their dear mum singing lullabies to them while rocking them to sleep when they were young or sick in bed as a child. The song that Irish folks remember above all of the rest is Tura Lura.
It mattered not whether mother could sing well because the tune brings back such warm and glowing memories of mother’s love that nothing else mattered when she was near. Most Irish folk would give anything to hear their dear mother sing Tura Lura just one more time.
For many of us that can never happen, so a rendition by the Irish Tenors will have to do. These lads sing better than angels from above, so be sure to tarry long enough to listen to their version of Tura Lura:
Irish Drinking Stories, Blessings and Proverbs Galore – Video
Ah! Irish drinking stories, Irish blessings and Irish proverbs are my favorite posts. If for some reason I could not post these, I might forget the activity altogether. And we do have some remarkable samples today, if I do say so myself.
Thomas O’Shea, an Irish solicitor from Waterford County, was on holiday in the country doing a bit of fox hunting. After a long chase and a valiant effort on the part of the fox, his group’s wounded prey had somehow managed to wiggle through a very small hole in a farmer’s fence and had met its end in the farmer’s field just the other side of the fence. The group’s dogs were unable to get through the fence, so they all gathered nearby the fence hole and at the same time were letting out a howling and ruckus that could be heard throughout the countryside.
As O’Shea dismounted his horse and began climbing over the fence to retrieve the fox, the elderly farmer who owned the land was drawn over to the site by the dogs’ incessant barking. The farmer, who went by the name of William Walsh, suddenly appeared before O’Shea and asked him what he was up to.
The litigator replied, “I shot that fox that you see lying there that my dogs chased over the countryside and through your fence, and now I intend to pick it up.”
However, old man Walsh had a different take on the situation and said to O’Shea in a rather smart tongue, “This is my property that ye’ve crossed onto, and I’m a’tellin’ ye that ye’re not takin’ my fox with ye.”
“Your fox!” cried O’Shea, who had become indignant at the mere thought that the fox belonged to the farmer. “I’ll have you know that I’ve chased that fox for kilometers, I have. Over hills and dales and through creek beds we ran. I’ve chased down that fox fair and square, and I intend to take it back with me to the clubhouse, oh yes I do!”
Old William Walsh replied, “The law says ye cannot hunt on a farmer’s land without his permission, and ye do not have my permission. The fox is mine.”
“The law!” yelled O’Shea. “I’ll have you know that I’m one of the very best solicitors in all of Ireland, I am. If you don’t let me retrieve that fox, I’ll take you to court for everything that you own!”
Old man Walsh cast a cagey eye over his adversary, then he said, “Well now, being as how ye’re a city feller and not from around here, ye don’t know how folks around here settle these things. Hereabouts we use the triple-kick method.”
“And what might that be?” asked the lawyer, sensing that there may be a way to settle this to his satisfaction.
Old Walsh said, “First I kick ye three times. Then ye do the same to me. We go back and forth like that till one or ta udder gives up.”
Thomas O’Shea ran this thought over in his mind. He soon decided that he could easily take this old man, and quickly agreed to the farmer‘s offer.
The old farmer slowly walked over to O‘Shea. Then he suddenly swung a hard right kick that implanted the toe of his heavy work boot into the solicitor’s privates, a kick that dropped Thomas O’Shea quickly to his knees.
The farmer then let loose with a second blow to O’Shea’s face that nearly broke the lawyer’s nose clean off of his face.
O’Shea lay prostrate on the ground in agony as the farmer prepared his third kick. It landed smack dab in the solicitor’s kidney forcing him to arch his back in profound pain. Writhing in absolute agony, the attorney was unsure whether or not he would be able to rise now that his turn had come.
Severe pain wracked O’Shea’s entire body as he dug deep down into his very soul for every ounce of will power and strength. Slowly, he dragged himself to an upright position with only thoughts of revenge raging through his head. O’Shea growled to Walsh, “Okay, you old fart, now it’s my turn.”
To which old man Walsh just smiled and said, “Naw! I believe that I’ll give up now. Ye won. Ye can have the fox.”
An Irish Drinking Toast:
May your glass be ever full,
May the roof over your head be always strong,
And may you be in heaven
Half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Another Irish Toast:
Tis better to spend money like there’s no tomorrow than to spend tonight like there’s no money!
Grady Quinn entered McCafferty’s Pub looking for someone he might know. He spied old Colin Murphy alone at a table, drinking all by himself and drinking fast and loose, he was. As Grady approached old Colin he noticed that Colin looked in terrible shape. “Colin,” said Grady. “You look just terrible, you do. What’s wrong my friend?”
Said Colin, “Me mother died in July, leavin’ me $40,000, she did.”
“Oh No!” replied Grady. “Well, no wonder you…”
“Wait!” interrupted Colin. “There’s more. Then in August me dear dad up and passed from the consumption. The dear man left me $80,000, he did.”
“Well, Colin, that’s just awful,” answered Grady. “Losing both of your parents in two months time would put a strain on the best of us, it would. No wonder you’re in here drinkin’ your sorrows away.”
“Listen!” said Colin. “There’s more yet. Then last month me favorite aunt fell sick and passed, just like that, she did. The dear soul left me $38,000.”
“Oh, Colin! You poor, poor man,” said Grady. “Losin’ three dear loved ones in just three months time. How terribly sad.”
“Then this month!” continued Colin. “This month came and went, it did. And…nothing!…absolutely nothing!”
An Irish Blessing to Luck:
“May you have all the happiness
and luck that life can hold—
And at the end of all your rainbows
may you find a pot of gold.”
Another Irish Blessing to Luck:
“May the luck of the Irish
Lead to happiest heights
And the highway you travel
Be lined with green lights.”
Tis a little known fact that the Irish claim that Jesus was Irish. Of course, the claim usually arises only after a few pints have been consumed.
So, why do the Irish believe that Jesus was Irish?
Because he was 33, still lived at home, thought his mother was a virgin and she thought he was the son of God.
Another Irish Blessing:
Like the warmth of the sun
And the light of the day,
May the luck of the Irish
Shine bright on your way.
And we end our Blessings with a Gaelic Prayer that is centuries old. There are many versions of this Blessing, and this is but one of them:
Deep peace of the running waves to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the smiling stars to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the watching shepherds to you.
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
Our video once again features Celtic Woman this time singing “Spanish Lady”:
More Irish Drinking Stories, Blessings and Proverbs
reddit_url=’http://mccaffertyspub.blogspot.com/2008/07/irish-drinnking-stories-blessings-and.html’
reddit_title=’Irish Drinking Stories, Blessings and Proverbs Galore – Video’
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