The Barman’s Ballad

A musician named Seamus walks into a quiet local pub and offers to play the old piano just for free pints. The music is absolutely brilliant, but the song titles are baffling the owner, Barman Finn. “Seamus,” Finn asks, “that last piece was incredible. What’s it called?”

Seamus replies, “That one is called, Makin Love till My Nose Bleeds.'”

Finn shakes his head. “Well, that’s an odd name. What about the slow, beautiful ballad you just finished?”

Seamus says, “Diarrhea So Bad That My Shoe’s Squeaked.'”

Later, after playing for hours, Seamus excuses himself for a quick trip. When he comes out, Finn calls him over and points discreetly. “Seamus, do you know your fly is down?”

Seamus smiles, shrugs, and replies, “Do I know it? Hell, I wrote it!”

Proud Mama

A Jewish woman has two sons. One becomes a doctor, and the other becomes a politician. The politician gets elected to the State Senate, but the mother does not go to the swearing in. He is elected as a U.S. Senator and again, she does not attend the swearing in. Finally, he is elected as the U.S. President, and she agrees to attend the inauguration.

While he is reciting the oath of office, the woman pokes the man sitting next to her and says “See that guy up there? His brother’s a doctor.”

The Reputation of Eamonn

A lad named Liam walked into a quiet pub in County Clare, sat down, and ordered a pint. Next to him was a leathery old man, Eamonn, well into his third glass of the evening.

Liam asked Eamonn if there was something troubling him.

Eamonn sighed deeply into his pint. “Aye, lad, indeed there is. You see this fine bar here? I built this bar meself, I did, slowly crafting every piece of this snug in the time-honored way. It took me six months, but do they call me Eamonn the bar-builder? Noooooo.

“You know the stone pier where the currachs land down at the harbour? I laid every single stone of that pier with me own two hands, finely honing each joint so it would withstand the wild Atlantic weather. It took nigh on a year, but do they call me Eamonn the pier-builder? Noooooo.

“And do you recall the whitewashed cottage you passed on the way into town? I stood that cottage up in six months, with nary a bit o’ help. To this day, that cottage is one of the finest in all the county. But do they call me Eamonn the cottage-maker? Nooooooo.

“But you kiss one goat…”

The Unexpected Benediction

A seventeen-year-old lad named Cormac walked into the chemist’s shop in Galway. He leaned over the counter and said to the clerk, “I’ve been invited to Christmas dinner at my new girl’s house, and afterwards, I’m hoping to get a bit of luck, if you catch my drift.”

The clerk smiled, reaching under the counter. “I understand completely, son. How about a packet of protection then? They could certainly come in handy. Here’s a pack of ten.”

Cormac paid and headed for the door, but stopped, grinned, and came right back. “You know, the mother is smoking hot too. I think I’ll take another pack, just in case I get extra lucky.”

Christmas Eve arrived, and Cormac sat at the dinner table. Just as the food was served, the mother of his girlfriend turned to him and asked if he would lead the family in saying grace. Cormac, flustered but compliant, bowed his head and started praying, and praying, and praying.

After what seemed like an age, the daughter leaned over and quietly whispered to him, “I had no idea you were so religious.”

Cormac replied, “I had no idea your dad was the chemist.”

It Works

Pavlov is sitting in his house when his phone rings. He announces, “I forgot to feed my dog.”

The Wee One

A woman named Máire boarded the Dublin bus with her wee baby in the pram. As she leaned in to pay her fare, the driver, a grumpy-looking lad, let out a gasp. “Sweet Mother of God!” he exclaimed. “That’s the ugliest child I’ve ever clapped eyes on!”

Máire was rightly furious. She slammed her money down and marched angrily to the back of the bus. She sat next to an older gentleman named Seán, who could clearly see she was distressed.

“What’s the trouble, girl?” Seán asked, noticing her shaking with temper.

Máire huffed. “The driver insulted me! Called my baby the ugliest thing he’d ever seen!”

Seán stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well, you can’t be having that. You should go right back up there and give him a proper scolding, you should.”

Máire thought for a second, her face hardening with resolve. “You know what? I think I’ll go and do just that!” she declared, standing up.

“Grand!” said Seán with a wink. “I’ll just guard your wee monkey in the meantime.”