Topic: Now the Irish. But First The Surgeons  (Read 956 times)

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Offline Brush Wolf

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Now the Irish. But First The Surgeons
« on: January 29, 2005, 11:33:28 pm »
First surgeon said: "I'm the best surgeon in Texas. A concert pianist
lost 7 fingers in an accident, I re-attached them, and 8 months later he
performed a private concert for the Queen of England."
 
Second surgeon said: "That's nothing. A young man lost both arms
and legs in an accident, I re attached them, and 2 years later he
won a gold medal in field events in the Olympics."

The third surgeon said: "You guys are amateurs. Several years ago a
guy who was high on cocaine and alcohol rode a horse head-on into a
train travailing 80 miles an hour. All I had left to work with was
the horse's ass and a cowboy hat. Now he's president of the United
States."

Paddy, the famous Irishman, is driving home after downing a few at the local pub. He turns a corner and much to his horror he sees a tree in the middle of the road. He swerves to avoid it and almost too late realizes that there is yet another tree directly in his path. He swerves again and discovers that his drive home has turned into a slalom course, causing him to veer from side to side to avoid all the trees. Moments later he hears the sound of a police siren and brings his car to a stop. The officer approaches Paddy's car and asks him what on earth he was doing. Paddy tells his story of the trees in the road when the officer stops him mid sentence and says, "Fer crissakes, Paddy, that's yer air freshener!"

******************


An Irishman, Englishman and Scotsman go into a pub and each order a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and one lands in each of the pints. The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another pint.

The Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow. The Irishman reaches in to the glass, pinches the fly between his fingers and shakes him while yelling, "Spit it out, ya little bastard! Spit it out!"


*******************************************


An Irish Fight


Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised and he's walking with a limp. "What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.


"Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy.


"That little sod, O'Conner," says Sean, "he couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."


"That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it."


"Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself. Didn't you have something in your hand?"


"That I did," said Paddy. "Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was, but useless in a fight."


******************************************


Irish Miracle


An Irishman who had a little too much to drink is driving home from the city one night and, of course, his car is weaving violently all over the road. A cop pulls him over. "So," says the cop to the driver, "where have ya been?"


"Why, I've been to the pub of course," slurs the drunk.


"Well," says the cop, "it looks like you've had quite a few to drink this evening."


"I did all right," the drunk says with a smile.


"Did you know," says the cop, standing straight and folding his arms across his chest, "that a few intersections back, your wife fell out of your car?"


"Oh, thank heavens," sighs the drunk. "For a minute there, I thought I'd gone deaf."


*********************************************


Irish Predicament


Drunk, Ole Mulvihill (From the Northern Irish Clan) staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional box, sits down but says nothing. The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention but the Ole just sits there. Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall. The drunk mumbles, "ain't no use knockin, there's no paper on this side either.


************************************************


Irish Last Request


Mary Clancy goes up to Father O'Grady's after his Sunday morning service, and she's in tears. He says, "So what's bothering you, Mary, my dear?"


She says, "Oh, Father, I've got terrible news. My husband passed away last night."


The priest says, "Oh, Mary, that's terrible. Tell me, did he have any last requests?"


She says, "That he did, Father..."


The priest says, "What did he ask, Mary?"


She says, "He said, 'Please Mary, put down that damn gun!'"
I am alright, it is the world that is wrong.

Offline Capt. Mike

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Re: Now the Irish. But First The Surgeons
« Reply #1 on: January 30, 2005, 06:11:05 am »
I guess we can pick on Swedes too....

A new pastor was called to the local church in North Dakota, and he was invited to attend a meeting of the Ladie's Circle.  To make things a little more comfortable, he asked Ole to give a talk of his adventures as a WWI pilot.  "Ya, sure you betca" Ole said.

As Ole began (in a heavy Swedish/ND accent) :

"There I was in my Sopwith Camel, flying at 2000 feet, when all of a sudden, there was a fokker to the left, a fokker to the right, and a fokker diving out of the sun."

The pastor said "Ole, you should explain that the Fokker was a German aircraft"

Ole said "Ya sure, but these fokkers was Messerschmidts"       


Mike
Summum ius summa iniuria.

The more law, the less justice.

Cicero, De Officiis, I, 33

"It doesn't, and you can't, I won't, and it don't
it hasn't, it isn't, it even ain't, and it shouldn't
it couldn't"
FZ, 1974

My chops were not as fast...[but] I just leaned more on what was in my mind than what was in my chops.  I learned a long time ago that one note can go a long way if it's the right one, and it will probably whip the guy with twenty notes.
 --Les Paul

Offline E_Look

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Re: Now the Irish. But First The Surgeons
« Reply #2 on: January 30, 2005, 03:14:53 pm »
Hey Capt.!  The Germans I knew in the Midwest said the Swedes are woodheads.  I wonder what the Dutch think; Fokker is a Dutch company, no?