Jumping to wrong conclusions?
Two chaps from Dungarvan were working in Dublin laying pipes for gas central heating. One day they were working outside a house which, they were told, was a well known brothel. Shortly after 11am a Rabbi stopped outside the house and, after looking right and left, ducked in the front door. The lads were shocked. “Imagine that”, said Jim, “a man of the cloth frequenting a house of ill repute”.
Just as the clock was striking 3pm, a Church of Ireland Minister got out of a taxi and, after checking that the coast was clear, ran into the house. “Mother of the Divine Lord”, said Dave, “nobody would believe us if we told them what was going on.”
At 5.30pm, the lads were packing up their gear and about to return to their digs when a Catholic priest sauntered along the footpath and, after glancing furtively about, slipped in the front door.
The boys looked at each other in amazement. “It just shows how wrong you could be about people”, said Jim, “it’s obvious there must be someone sick in that house.”
A Parisian wild-spirit in Ring
Fifi was a beautiful French girl who moved from Paris to the Ring Gaeltacht. She received a warm welcome from the friendly locals but, when it was discovered that she was a ‘woman of the street’ and when she began to ply her trade in the area, she was regarded with some curiosity. Fifi did so well that, after a few months, she decided that she would not work until after 7 o’clock at night and she promptly became known as ‘La Hoor, tar eis a seacht!’
French prisoners?
In the pub, a customer was boring the pants off his companions by going on and on about various cars he was familiar with. Most of the cars he mentioned were small, expensive sports-type vehicles and, in the end, one of the lads asked him sarcastically: ‘What do you think about the Renault Five?’
The know-all hesitated for a moment before replying forcefully: ‘As far as I’m concerned they are all innocent and I hope they will be released soon.’
Could this be true?
A Tramore woman hears on the radio that a maniac is driving his car on the Naas dual carriageway in the wrong direction. Knowing that her husband is driving on that very road, she calls him up on his mobile telephone.
“Darling, be careful, I’ve just heard on the radio that there’s a lunatic on your road”, she warns him breathlessly.
“Don’t I know it”, replies the husband in a worried voice. “And it’s not just one lunatic, I’m having to swerve to avoid hundreds of the feckers who are driving towards me as I speak.”
Then there was the Ferrybank man who went to see his doctor to tell him he thought he was going deaf.
“Hmmm, what are the symptoms?”, asked the concerned GP.
“That’s easy”, said our man. “They’re the yellow cartoon characters from America on the telly.”
A haunted nanny from Passage East?
A lecturer at WIT a couple of weeks ago was preparing to discuss the supernatural with his students. To get a feel for his audience, he asked: `How many people here believe in ghosts?’ About 90 students raised their hands. ‘Well that’s a good start’, said the delighted and slightly surprised lecturer. ‘Out of those of you who believe in ghosts, do any of you think you’ve ever seen a ghost?’ About 40 students raised their hands.
‘That’s really good. I’m really glad you take this seriously. Has anyone here ever talked to a ghost’, asked the lecturer. To his further surprise, 15 students raised their hands. ‘That’s a great response. Has anyone here ever touched a ghost?’ Three students raised their hands.
‘‘That’s fantastic”, said the lecturer, ‘but let me ask you one further question. Has any one of you ever made love to a ghost?’
Every head in the room turned when one student from the Passage East area raised his hand. The lecturer was astonished. Taking off his glasses, he took a step back and said: `My boy, in all the years I’ve been giving this lecture, no one has ever claimed to have slept with a ghost. You’ve got to come up here and tell us about your experience.’
When Roger (not his real name) made his way to the podium, the lecturer, breathless with anticipation, said: ‘So, tell us Roger, what is it like to have sex with a ghost?’
Roger turned a deep shade of red and blurted out. “Ah feck it sir, I’m really sorry, I thought all along you were talking about goats not ghosts!’
Optimistic Ballybricken killers
Two chaps from Ballybricken, Jimmy and Johnny, emigrated to the United States in the days when the West really was wild and much of the country was still inhabited by Indians or native Americans as they are now more respectfully referred to.
The lads landed in New York but they didn’t prosper and moved out West where they heard there was money to be had from doing all sorts of work. Eventually, they settled in Arkansas where they made some cash shooting Indians and selling their scalps to the army which, to its eternal shame, paid a bounty for each one.
Jimmy and Johnny where so good at their job that their reputation spread across the plains and they became the most hated white men over a wide area. All the Indian tribes got together and decided that they would lay aside any hostilities between them and join forces to get rid of the Ballybricken men.
Finally, after weeks of planning and scouting, the Indians found out that the lads were camping out near a stream on the open prairie and, while their intended victims slept, seven thousand Indians surrounded them.
Jimmy was first up the next morning and, when he came out of the tent, all he could see for miles around were rows and rows of Indians in full war-paint and headgear. He stared at the massed force for a couple of minutes and then smiled and rubbed his hands together gleefully.
“Johnny, come out quick”, he shouted back into the tent, “we’re going to be millionaires!”
A heart of stone!
A wealthy barrister was approached by the St. Vincent de Paul Society about making a contribution to charity. “We understand you made several million euro last year and we just wondered if you might like to give a little back to the community through our volunteers’, said the St. Vincent de Paul man.
The legal eagle was not in the least bit pleased about being asked for money and replied: “Do you know that my mother is suffering from a serious illness and has huge medical bills that she is unable to pay”, he asked.
Somewhat embarrassed, the Society man said that he was not aware of that fact.
“And”, continued the barrister, “do you not know that my brother has lost his job and is unable to support his wife and ten children?”
And that stage, the poor St. Vincent de Paul official was mortified and tried to stammer an apology but he was interrupted by the then very angry barrister.
“Furthermore, I’m sure you also don’t know that my sister’s husband was killed in an accident leaving her penniless with a big mortgage and three children”, he shouted.
“I’m really sorry for bothering you, please forgive the intrusion but I had no idea what your situation was”, said the charity worker.
“I should think so too”, sniffed the barrister, “if I don’t give any money to them, why I should I give it to the St. Vincent de Paul Society?”