Genie Joke
An Irishman is walking along the beach. He finds a bottle and rubs it; out comes a genie. The genie agrees to grant him three wishes. The Irishman says, “I’ve been walking on this beach all day. I’m thirsty. I wish I could have a mug of beer that never ends.” Poof, a frosty mug of beer appears in his hand. He drinks it down and sure enough, it fills itself back up again. So the Irishman drinks that mug down. And it magically refills. He drinks again; it refills again. By this time, he’s beginning to feel the effects, but the genie is also getting a bit irritated. He’s tapping his feet, looking at his watch, etc., and finally the genie says, “I’ve got places to be. Have you decided on your other two wishes?”
The Irishman, staggering around by this time, looks at the mug as it fills up again, thinks for a minute, and says, “Yeah, just give me two more of these.”
The Real Thing
The brewmasters of three major beer companies decide to step away from a beer festival and go to a local pub. The first was from Mexico. He walks in, approaches the bar, and says, “Hola bartender, I would like to have the finest beer in the world. Give me a Dos Equis, por favor.”
The second was from Holland. “Bartender, give me the finest beer in the world, a Heineken.”
The third was the head of Guinness brewery at St. James Gate in Dublin. He takes a look around and then orders, “Bartender, I’ll have a Coke, please.”
The other two give a puzzled look and finally ask, “Why a Coke?”
The brewmaster from Guinness answers, “Well, I figured if you lads weren’t drinking beer yet, I could hold off for a wee bit.”
Home Is Where The Heart Is
Murphy was selling his house and put the matter in an agent’s hands. The agent wrote up a sales blurb for the house that made wonderful reading. After Murphy read it, he turned to the agent and asked, “Have I got all you say there?”
The agent said, “Certainly, ye have… Why do you ask?”
Murphy replied, “Cancel the sale… it’s too good to part with.”
St. Patrick’s Skull
Bud Nelson, from New York, flew to Knock Airport in the west of Ireland on business. As he walked down the stairs from the plane onto the runway, he noticed a small Irishman standing beside a long table with an assortment of human skulls.
“What are you doing?” asked the American.
“I’m selling skulls,” replied the Irishman.
“And what skulls do you have?” said Bud.
“Well, I have the skulls of the most famous Irishmen that ever lived!” said the Irishman.
“That’s great!” said Bud. “Give me some names!”
“Well!” said the Irishman, pointing to various skulls. “That one there is James Joyce, the famous author and playwright; that one there is St. Brendan, the Navigator; that’s Michael Collins, the leader of the 1916 Rising; and that one there is St. Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland… God bless his soul.”
“Sorry,” said Bud, “But did you say St. Patrick?”
“That’s correct!” said the Irishman.
“I have to have that!” said Bud and paid him £50.00 in cash.
Bud flew back to New York and mounted his skull on the wall in his pub. People came from all over America to view this famous skull. He made a fortune over a five-year period and retired a very rich man. During his retirement, he decided to go back to visit Ireland, the land that made him a fortune.
Bud flew back into Knock airport, and while walking down the stairs saw the same Irishman at the bottom of the stairs. “God,” said Bud, “What are you doing?”
“I’m selling skulls,” replied the Irishman.
“And what skulls do you have today?” said Bud.
“Well, I have the skulls of the most famous Irishmen that ever lived!” said the Irishman.
“That’s great!” said Bud. “Give me some names!”
“Well!” said the Irishman, pointing to various skulls. “That one there is James Joyce, the famous author and playwright; that one there is St. Brendan, the Navigator; that’s Michael Collins, the leader of the 1916 Rising; and that one there is St. Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland… God bless his soul.”
“Sorry,” said Bud, “But did you say St. Patrick?”
“That’s correct!” said the Irishman.
“Well!” said Bud, “I was here almost 7 years ago, and you sold me a skull a little bit bigger than that one there, and you told me then that the skull was St. Patrick.”
“Oh yes!” said the Irishman, “I remember you now! You see… This is St. Patrick when he was a boy!”
Mistaken Identity
Two Irishmen met and one said to the other, “Have ye seen Mulligan lately, Pat?”
Pat said, “Well, I have, and I haven’t.”
His friend asked, “Well, what d’ye mean by that?”
Pat said, “It’s like this, y’see… I saw a chap who I thought was Mulligan, and he saw a chap that he thought was me. And when we got up to one another… it was neither of us.”
One from Aunt Gussie
Mick is rowing his boat in a hay field. Paddy drives past and stops. He looks at his fellow Irishman in the rowboat and shouts across the field, “It’s thick-headed eejits like you that give us Irish a bad name! I’d come over there and beat the heck out of you if only I could swim!”
