Joke Of The Day: A Good Bar

Rubber Chicken “As good as this bar is,” said the Scotsman, “I still prefer the pubs back home.
In Glasgow , there’s a wee place called McTavish’s. The landlord goes out of his way for the locals. When you buy four drinks, he’ll buy the fifth drink.”

“Well, Angus,” said the Englishman, “At my local in London, the Red Lion, the barman will buy you your third drink after you buy the first two.”

“Ahhh, dat’s nothin’,” said Paddy Sheehan, the Irishman. “Back home in me favorite pub in Galway , the moment you set foot in the place, they’ll buy you a drink, then another, all the drinks you like, actually. Then, when you’ve had enough drinks, they’ll take you upstairs and see dat you get laid, all on the house!”

The Englishman and Scotsman were suspicious of the claims.

“Did this actually happen to you?”

“Not meself, personally, no,” admitted the Irishman, “but it did happen to me sister quite a few times.”

 

 

Joke Of The Day: A Real Curmudgeon

Rubber Chicken A group of Americans was touring Ireland. One of the women in the group was a real curmudgeon, constantly complaining. The bus seats are uncomfortable.The food is terrible. It’s too hot. It’s too cold. The accommodations are awful.

The group arrived at the site of the famous Blarney Stone.

“Good luck will be followin’ ya all your days if you kiss the Blarney Stone,”the guide said. “Unfortunately, it’s being cleaned today and so no one will be able to kiss it. Perhaps we can come back tomorrow.”

“We can’t be here tomorrow,” the nasty woman shouted. “We have some other boring tour to go on. So I guess we can’t kiss the stupid stone.”

“Well now,” the guide said, “it is said that if you kiss someone who has kissed the stone, you’ll have the same good fortune.”

“And I suppose you’ve kissed the stone,” the woman scoffed.

“No, ma’am,” the frustrated guide said, “but I’ve sat on it.”

 

 

Joke Of The Day: Sweet Aroma

Rubber Chicken There was once an Irish actor who did Shakespearean plays, but had aged and could no longer remember his lines! After many years, he finds himself in the Halifax Theater in Canada, where they are prepared to give him a chance to shine again.

The director says “This is the most important part, and it has only one line. You walk on to the stage carrying a rose. You hold the rose to your nose with just one finger and thumb, sniff the rose deeply and then say the line:
“Ah, the sweet aroma of my mistress.”

The Irish actor is thrilled. All day long before the play he was practicing his line over and over again.

Finally, the time came. The curtain went up, the actor walked onto the stage, and using just one finger he delivered the line:
“Ah, the sweet aroma of my mistress.”

The theater erupted, the audience was screaming with laughter and the director was steaming!

“You bloody fool!” he cried “You have ruined me!”

The Irish actor was bewildered: “What happened, did I forget my line?

“No!” screamed the director. “You forgot the rose!”

 

 

An Irish Ghost Story

An Irish Ghost Story

 
THIS STORY happened a while ago in Dublin, and even though it sounds like an Alfred Hitchcock tale, it’s true.

John Bradford, a Dublin University student, was on the side of the road hitchhiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm.

The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him. Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped.

John, desperate for shelter and without thinking about it, got into the car and closed the door… Only to realize there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn’t on. The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a curve approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the curve, a hand appeared out of nowhere through the window, and turned the wheel. John, paralyzed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him.

Shortly thereafter, John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength; he jumped out of the car and ran to it. Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had.

A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realized he was crying… And wasn’t drunk.

Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John, were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other…

Look, Paddy… there’s that idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it!

 

Load More