A young girl from Donegal leaves home to find work in the bright lights of London.  She comes home 6 months later and steps out of a taxi wearing a full-length mink coat.

 

“Begorrah, Colleen,” says her mother.  “Tis a lovely soft coat yer wearin’ an’ it looks so expensive.  Where did ye get that?”

 

Colleen replies, “Sure now, I won it at the bingo.  Don’t they have wonderful prizes in London?”  When the weekend’s over, Colleen returns to the bright lights, but she’s back to visit her mom a few months later.  This time, when she steps out of the taxi, she’s wearing a beautiful gold wristwatch and a large diamond ring.

 

Same exchange with Mom...same “Won it at bingo!”

 

Colleen returns to the bright lights again.  A few months later, she’s back.  This time she’s sporting a beautiful emerald and diamond necklace with matching bracelet and earrings. She hands her mother 1,000 pounds and explains that she won it all in bingo.  Then she asks Mom to run her a bath as she needs to freshen up.  When Colleen gets to the washroom, there’s only a quarter inch of hot water in the bathtub. 

 

Colleen, a wee bit peeved at her Mom being so cheap with the hot water after being handed 1,000 pounds, calls downstairs, “Mom! sure now, didn’t I ask you to run me a bath?  There’s only a quarter inch of water in the tub!”

 

“Indade there is, me darlin,” replies her Mom.  “But we don’t want ye gettin’ yer bingo card wet now, do we?”

 

A priest from Ireland was assigned to a Texas diocese.

 

One morning, Father O’Malley rose from his bed.  It was a fine spring day in his new Texas mission parish.  He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside.  He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn.  He promptly called the local police station.  The conversation went like this:

 

“Good morning, this is Sergeant Jones, how might I help you?”

 

“And the best of the day te yerself.  This is Father O’Malley at St. Brigid’s.  There’s a jackass lying dead in me front lawn.  Would ye be so kind as to send a couple O yer lads to take care of the matter?”

 

Sergeant Jones, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a smirk, “Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people took care of last rites!”

 

There was dead silence on the line for a long moment.

 

Father O’Malley then replied: “Aye, ’tis certainly true, but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin.”

 

A man is out playing golf on a Saturday afternoon in Ireland.  He steps up to the 16th tee, and shanks his shot deep into the rough on the side of the fairway.  He goes chasing after his ball, and when he finds it, he sees a leprechaun, lying on the ground next to his ball, unconscious, with a knot on his head.  The golfer revives the leprechaun who says, “Aye, laddie, ye did it.  Ye caught me, so ye get yer three wishes.”

 

The golfer, more concerned for the leprechaun, says, “My God, man.  I hit ye with my golf ball and you want to grant me three wishes?  I don’t need me three wishes.  I just want to know you’re okay, to be sure.”

 

The leprechaun, in a fit of agitation, says to the golfer, “Listen.  I’ll be okay.  If you don’t want your three wishes, then I am going to give you the three most-often-requested wishes whether ye like it or not -- so here goes.”

 

“First, inexhaustible wealth.  Second, a scratch golf handicap for the rest of your life -- you’ll be playing like Tiger-friggin’-Woods, to be sure.  And third, an incredible love life.  Now I am going to tend to me head,” says the leprechaun, who vanishes into the mist.

 

One Year Later.

 

The man is out playing golf on another Saturday afternoon, in Ireland.  He steps up to the 16th tee, and shanks his shot deep into the rough on the side of the fairway.  Again.  He goes chasing after his ball, and when he finds it, he finds the same leprechaun, lying on the ground next to his ball, unconscious, with a knot on the other side of his head.  The golfer revives the leprechaun, saying, “Good God, man.  I canna’ believe I hit ye again wit’ me golf ball.”

 

“Never mind me,” says the leprechaun.  “How are YOU holding up?  How’s your money situation?”

 

“Funny you should mention that,” says the golfer.  “Whenever I put me hand in me pocket, out it comes wit’ a hundred-pound-note!”

 

“Remember,” says the leprechaun, “I gave you inexhaustible wealth!  Tell me now, how’s your golf game?”

 

“Would you believe I played a tournament last week,” says the golfer, “and I beat Tiger Woods by two strokes, I did.”

 

“That’s right,” says the leprechaun.  “I promised you scratch golf for the rest of your life.  And how’s your love life?”

 

“Well,” says the golfer, “I met a nice lady, and we’ve been seein’ a bit of each other...”

 

“Skip to the good parts!” exclaimed the leprechaun.  “Details, man.  I want details.  How often are you and the miss gettin’ it?”

 

“It’s good,” says the golfer.  “At least twice a week, not to brag, mind ye.”

 

“Twice a week???” exclaimed the leprechaun.  “Are ye daft, man?  You call that good???”

 

“Well,” says the golfer, “for a Catholic priest in a small parish, it’s not bad.”

 

Tommy Shaughnessy enters the confessional box and says, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  I have been with a loose woman.”

 

The priest asks, “Is that you, little Tommy Shaughnessy?”

 

“Yes, Father, it is.”

 

“And who was the woman you were with?”

 

“I can’t be tellin’ you, Father.  I don’t want to ruin her reputation.”

 

“Well, Tommy, I’m sure to find out sooner or later, so you may as well tell me now.  Was it Brenda O’Malley?”

 

“I cannot say.”

 

“Was it Patricia Kelly?”

 

“I’ll never tell.”

 

“Was it Liz Shannon?”

 

“I’m sorry, but I’ll not tell her name.”

 

“Was it Cathy Morgan?”

 

“My lips are sealed.”

 

“Was it Fiona McDonald, then?”

 

“Please, Father, I cannot tell you.”

 

The priest sighs in frustration.  “You’re a steadfast lad, Tommy Shaughnessy, and I admire that.  But you’ve sinned, and you must atone.  Be off with you now.”

 

Tommy walks back to his pew.  His friend Sean slides over and whispers, “What’d you get?”

 

“Five good leads,” says Tommy.

 

An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut.  The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.

 

He says, “Sir, have you been drinking?”

 

“Just water,” says the priest.

 

The trooper says, “Then why do I smell wine?”

 

The priest looks at the bottle and says, “Good Lord!  He’s done it again!”

 

Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, “Pour me a stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.”

 

“Oh yeah?” said Charlie, “And how did this one end?”

 

“When it was over,” Mike replied, “She came to me on her hands and knees.”

 

“Really,” said Charles, “Now that’s a switch!  What did she say?”

 

She said, “Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.”

 

Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy.  He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.

 

He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step.  As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.  A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.

 

Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.  He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.

 

He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.

 

In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.

 

She said, “You were drunk again last night weren’t you?”

 

Flynn said, “Why you say such a mean thing?”

 

“Well,” Mary said, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.

Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place.  Looking up to heaven he said, “Lord take pity on me.  If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”

 

Miraculously, a parking place appeared.

 

Paddy looked up again and said, “Never mind, I found one.”

 

Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and says to the first man he meets, “Do you want to go to heaven?”

The man said, “I do, Father.”

 

The priest said, “Then stand over there against the wall.”  Then the priest asked the second man, “Do you want to go to heaven?”

 

“Certainly, Father,” was the man’s reply.

 

“Then stand over there against the wall,” said the priest.  Then Father Murphy walked up to O’Toole and said, “Do you want to go to heaven?”

 

O’Toole said, “No, I don’t Father.”

 

The priest said, “I don’t believe this.  You mean to tell me that when you die you don’t want to go to heaven?”

 

O’Toole said, “Oh, when I die, yes.  I thought you were getting a group together to go right now.”