Happy St. Patrick's Day
Faith and begorrah, I meant to post something for Saint Patrick's Day. Before it's too late, I'll tell a couple of jokes I heard at Irish Pub Night at the church:
Wee Colleen was walking the cow down the road. The priest came riding along on his bicycle, and said, "Colleen, now, where do ya be goin' with that cow?"
"I'm taking her to the bull for servicing," Colleen replied.
"Can't your father do that?" the priest asked.
"Don't be daft. You need a bull for that," Colleen said.
Sister Bridget went to Lourdes to soak in the Holy Water and cure her arthritis and bunions. She liked the water so much she wanted to bring some back to Boston with her.
When she started through the airport terminal pulling a five-gallon water jug on a luggage roller, a security officer stopped her.
"You can't take that on the plane with you," the officer said.
He looked more closely at the jug, then took the top off and sniffed it, with a puzzled look on his face. Finally, he dipped his fingers into the water and brought a sampling to his lips for tasting.
"Sister! That's not water in that jug. That's 100-proof gin!" the security officer said.
"Oooh, that Jesus!" Bridget exclaimed. "He's been at it again!"
The village newspaper reporter came out to Paddy O'Brian's farm, after hearing tales of three-legged chickens running the property.
Paddy confirmed it.
"Yes," he said. "I like a chicken leg; my wife likes a chicken leg; my son likes a chicken leg. So I bred the flock to have three legs."
"How do those chickens taste?" inquired the reporter.
"I dunnoo," Paddy said. "We haven't caught one yet."