Poor Mrs. Molly McGuire entered the local newspaper establishment to pay for the obituary for her dear departed husband, Peter.
Said the kindly newspaperman the charge was a dollar a word and he remembered Peter and wasn’t it too bad about him passing away though.
Molly thanked him for his kind words, but bemoaned the fact that she had but two dollars to her name. So she wrote out the obituary, “Peter died.”
The newspaperman said he thought that old Peter deserved a mite more than that, and, yes, he would give her three more words at no extra charge.
Mrs. Molly thanked him for his generosity during her time of need and rewrote the obituary: “Peter died. Boat for sale.”
You’ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind.
A constable pulls up two Irish drunks, then says to the first one, “Okay then, Seamus. What’s your name and address?”
The first drunk replies, “My name isn’t Seamus. I’m Paddy O’Day, of no fixed address, thank you very much.”
The constable turns his attention to the second drunk and asks, “Okay then, Seamus. It’s your turn, What is your name and address?”
The second drunk replies, “My name isn’t Seamus either. I’m Sean O’Toole, and I live in the flat above Paddy.”
May the love and protection
Saint Patrick can give
Be yours in abundance
As long as you live.
How do you sink an Irish submarine?
Knock on the hatch.
What butter and whiskey will not cure there’s no cure for.
A solicitor was questioning his new client, “Well, Mrs. O’Hara, it’s a divorce you want, is it? So tell me about it. Do you have a grudge?”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed the Missus. ” We have no grudge. Sure enough now, it’s a carport we have, it is.”
So the solicitor tried again. “Well now, does the man beat you up, does he?”
“Oh, land sakes no!” said Mrs. O’Hara, looking somewhat puzzled. “Oi’m always the first one out of bed, I am.”
Still hopeful, the solicitor tried once again. “Well, does he go in for unnatural connubial practices?”
“Well now, he does play the flute, he does. But I don’t think he knows a thing about the connubial,” answered the Missus.
The solicitor was getting desperate, but he pushed on nonetheless. “What I’m trying to find out, Mrs. O’Hara, is what grounds do you have.”
“Bless you, sir. But, we live in a flat, to be sure. There’s not even a window box, let alone grounds, sir.”
“Mrs. O’Hara,” the solicitor said in a state of considerable exasperation, “you need a reason that the court can consider. What is the reason for you seeking this divorce?”
“Ah, well now,” said the lady, “Sure it’s because the man cannot hold an intelligent conversation.”
A remarkable gift to the world is Irish culture as presented by Celtic Woman. Here is a video of The Last Rose of Summer.