Thank God For The Irish

Here are a few jokes at the expense of the great and poetic Irish, to get us all in the mood for Saint Paddy's day. These were sent to me but I've added my favorite at the bottom


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."

Paddy was in New York. He was patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, "Okay, pedestrians." Then he'd allow the traffic to pass. He'd done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk. After the cop had shouted, "Pedestrians!" for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, "Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?"

Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend, Finney. "Did you see the paper?" asked Gallagher. "They say I died!!" "Yes, I saw it!" replied Finney. "Where are ye callin' from?"

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!"

But you forgot my favorite.

So, an American an Englishman and an Irishman was settin' at the bar. A fly buzzed passed and ended up in the American's whiskey. The American grabbed the fly out, flicked it across the room and continued drinking. Only seconds later a fly landed in the drink of the Englishman. Looking at the insect with disgust, the Englishman called the bar keep over and, indicating the floating fly, asked for another drink. Not a half a minute after that, a fly landed smack dab in the Irishman's whiskey. Quick as can be, the Irishman grabbed the fly by his wings, lifted him a half inch above the drink, and looking the terrified insect straight in the eye, say's, "Spit it out! Spit it out!"