Irish humor

So, I don't mind the Irish jokes so much, I find many of them humorous. I'm mostly Irish, and a dual US-Irish citizen.

But I have to ask, in today's hyper-sensitive environment, why is this O.K? What if, on the eve of Martin Luther King, Jr. day, someone started a thread of black jokes? Or on Cinco De Mayo, Mexican jokes. Or on other days Jew jokes, Muslim jokes, Polish jokes, and so on.

It seems to me that regardless of political correctness, the Irish and Catholics are always fair game.

Do you think I'd get banned for starting Jewish, black, and Mexican joke threads?

Only if they're not funny.
 
All right then, a joke other than Irish. I'll pick on Texans.

OK, since you've gone there,

A Texan actually makes it into Harvard University. The Texan is walking around the campus and asks a guy, "Can you tell me where the library is at?"

The student replies, "Sir, this is Harvard. We do not end a sentence with a preposition."

Texan says, "OK then, can you tell me where the library is at, a$$hole?"

All the best,
WW
 
So, I don't mind the Irish jokes so much, I find many of them humorous. I'm mostly Irish, and a dual US-Irish citizen.

But I have to ask, in today's hyper-sensitive environment, why is this O.K? What if, on the eve of Martin Luther King, Jr. day, someone started a thread of black jokes? Or on Cinco De Mayo, Mexican jokes. Or on other days Jew jokes, Muslim jokes, Polish jokes, and so on.

It seems to me that regardless of political correctness, the Irish and Catholics are always fair game.

Do you think I'd get banned for starting Jewish, black, and Mexican joke threads?

Because most Irishmen are not pussies. Guess you aren't quite Irish enough.:shrug:
Jason
 
Because most Irishmen are not pussies. Guess you aren't quite Irish enough.:shrug:
Jason

Most of the Irish jokes weren’t good enough originally.....
...the Irish had to take over


pt...both me grandmothers were Irish, so they were
 
It's Paddy's wake, a sad occasion.

Paddy took a trip to the Guinness factory, and accidentally drowned in a vat of Guinness.

Paddy's wife is crying, comes to the priest, and says, "My God father, why???"

The Priest says, "Well ma'am, if it gives you any comfort, makes any difference at all....."

"Paddy got out three times to go to the bathroom..."

All the best,
WW
 
I'm Irish and I don't drink alcohol. Maybe I should be in the book of world records or something. Technically I'm Scots Irish so I'm not sure if that's the same thing as Irish or not.
 
I do have one brother-in-law that is Irish.
Him you might call the original Irish joke. :poke:

.

If this thread was a contest ( it isn’t)....you would be the winner.
“There’s only one Swedish joke, the rest are true.”
....now everybody in the pool hall knows it...:rotflmao1::lol::rotflmao:
 
LKJLJ.jpg

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This is a joke the famous Dennis Taylor told during one of his trickshot shows:

Dennis, famous for winning the 1985 World Snooker Championship and wearing big snooker glasses, played an exhibition somewhere in Ireland. But on this evening he didn`t wear his glasses and played amazing. He hit one century after another and played the best snooker of his lifetime.
After a while another player, who wore glasses too, asked Dennis how he can play that well without his glasses and Dennis answered:" Well, if I put down my glasses I see a small ball and a big ball and a small pocket and a big pocket. So I shoot the small ball into the big pocket!"
The other player thinks to himself, that he has to give this a go and really, he puts down his glasses and starts to play better and better, shooting small balls into big pockets.
After a while they make a little break and the other player goes to the toilet. After he comes back, his trousers are soaking wet and Dennis asks him, if everything is alright.
His opponent answers." Well, I went to the toilet and in the moment I want to put my thing out I looked down and saw a big one and a small one. I thought the small one can`t be mine...and so I put it back again!"
 
I was in Ireland visiting relatives. We had gone to Dingle for a little detour in the county side. In a music shop there, I was speaking to a young man who had just returned from Thailand.

As the conservation went on he mentioned that there was a sizable Irish community living there. I expressed a bit of surprise about that, but noted the Irish had moved all over the world.

His response: "We Irish do not emigrate to places, we infest them."
 
Billy stops Paddy in Dublin and asks for the quickest way to Cork.

Paddy says: "Are you on foot or in the car?"

Billy replies: "In the car."

"Well that's the quickest way," says Paddy.
 
I was in Ireland visiting relatives. We had gone to Dingle for a little detour in the county side. In a music shop there, I was speaking to a young man who had just returned from Thailand.

As the conservation went on he mentioned that there was a sizable Irish community living there. I expressed a bit of surprise about that, but noted the Irish had moved all over the world.

His response: "We Irish do not emigrate to places, we infest them."

I am compelled to tell the story of how we came to be in this musical instrument shop.

The day before we had been driving around the country side looking for all the various piles of rocks which over the centuries had been constructed due to mans attempts to conquer nature, or other men.

One rock in particular at the church of Kilmalkedar had the legend that it was was used to seal treaties of various sorts and to renew wedding vows. We had searched all over for this rock but could not find it.

That night we were in the pub we had been frequenting during our stay in Dingle, and it being February (we were apparently the only tourists in the town) the place was alive with residents. As we struck up conversations with one of them I mentioned our trouble from earlier in the day of locating the rock. I happened to jokingly comment to him that I believed, in keeping with the well known Irish tradition of telling fanciful tales, this was one of them or they moved the rock around and then blamed the Leprechuans for the mischief.

He responded laughing, "The bloody rock has been there for thousands of years. We do not bloody move it around!".

Later on that evening, another gentleman approached us out of the blue offered to take us to the rock personally.

"Come by my music store tomorrow and I will will drive you out to see it. But do not come by earlier than 11:00am. No sooner than 11:00". We agreed to his offer.

After an hour of music, song, dance and merriment he stops by our table and wagging his finger, "Make sure to stop by my store, but no earlier than noon. Then I will show you the rock."

Another hour of merriment passes and again he stops by our table " Please make sure you come by the store, but only after 1:00. Yes, after 1:00, Then I will take you the rock." We agree.

To remain polite, we schedule our arrival at his music store to be around 1:30, fully understanding why the delay was agreed to from the night before. When we get to the store, we find that the gentleman is not there. It is being run by his son, who had just returned from Thailand and whose return was being celebrated the night before in the pub. We laugh and say it is not really that important and it was not a problem. But the son insists on calling his father to tell him that we were there and insisted for us to wait. After a while, maybe 2 hours, the man appeared but it was getting late in the day and we did not want to impose on him so much.

We never did make the journey to the rock as we spent the whole afternoon in the store talking with the man and his son about the various instruments and CDs they had for sale and discussing many other things Irish.

Ireland is not about the piles of rocks. It is all about the people.
 
Have you met the Irish gal that stays out all night, every night?

Her name is Patty O'Furniture.
 
On a golf tour in Ireland, Tiger Woods drives his late model BMW into a petrol station in a remote part of the Irish countryside.

The attendant obviously knows nothing about golf. He greets Tiger in a typical Irish manner, completely unaware of who the golfing pro is.

"Top o' the mornin’ to ya, Laddy." says the attendant.

Tiger nods a quick “Hello” and leans forward to grab the gas nozzle.

As he does so, two tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground.

“What are those?" asks the attendant.

“They’re called tees.” replies Tiger.

“Well, what on the God’s green earth are they for?” inquires the Irishman.

“They’re for resting my balls on when I’m driving." says Tiger.

"You don't say,” says the Irishman, “BMW thinks of everything!"
 
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