St. Paddy's!
Mick O'Riley sat at the end of the bar looking grim. A friend asked him what was wrong. "Ah, it's my wife," O'Riley replied. "The last time I came home drunk, she said she wouldn't talk to me for a month." "That's awful." "No shit!" said O'Riley. "Today, my month is up!"
A recently ordained Irish priest was delivering his first sermon to his new parish. "As I drove into your town last week, I witnessed three abominations: first, I saw a man in a field committing an unnatural act with a sheep. I drove on farther and saw another man committing the same vile act with another sheep. And then, at the edge of town, I saw a man committing an abomination with himself." A voice spoke up from the back of the congregation. "Aye, that'll be old Paddy Fitzpatrick. He never could catch a sheep!"
The Irishman hobbled into a doctor's office. "I think I broke my foot." "What happened?" "Well, it all started twenty years ago." "Twenty years?" the startled doctor exclaimed. "Yep. I had just started as an apprentice to Sean O'Toole and I was sleeping in his hayloft. The first night, his young daughter climbed up into the hayloft and asked me if there was anything she could do for me. I said, 'No, I'm comfortable. ' and she left." "So?" asked the doctor. "Then, the next night, she climbed up there again, but this time wearing only a nightgown. 'Now is there anything I can do for you?' she asked me and again I told her, 'Nope. I'm good.' " "I don't understand," said the doctor. "Then, on the third night, she climbed up there stark naked and asked me the same thing. And again, I said I was fine, and she left." "I'm confused," said the doctor. "What does this have to do with your broken foot?" "I'm getting' there, doc. This afternoon, when I finally realized what she meant, I got so mad I kicked a brick wall!"
The Nightmare Before St. Patrick's Day
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