When Irish Eyes are Smiling
by Maury Collins
On This Day in Irish History
by Terry Kenneally
An Arab sheik rang Red Adair up and told him he had an oil well on fire and needed him to come and put it out. Red said, “Sorry! sheik, I’m in the Gulf of Mexico in one of the biggest fires ever, but I’ll ring my mate Murphy, he’ll do it.”
The Sheik says, “Tell him I’ll pay him two million pounds to put it out, I’m losing millions every day.”
Later the sheik was looking out over the desert and saw a line of dust heading straight for the inferno as he watched a green transit van with “Murphy” on the side drive straight into the flames. Four Paddy’s jumped out with shovels and started beating the flames. After about an hour the flames were out.
The sheik walked up to Murphy and said, “That is without doubt the bravest thing I have ever witnessed in my life Mr. Murphy. Here you go, as promised, two million pounds. Tell me, what will you do with all that money?”
Murphy replied, “Well first, I’m going to get the brakes fixed on the van.”
A man staggers into the hospital with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat. Naturally a doctor asked him what had happened.
“Well” said the man; “I was having a quiet game of golf with my wife, when at a difficult hole; we both sliced our shots into a cow pasture. We went to look for them, and while looking I noticed one of the cows had something white in its rear end. I walked over and lifted the cow’s tail, and sure enough; there was a golf ball with my wife’s monogram on it stuck in the cow’s butt. Still holding the cow’s tail up, I yelled to my wife hey this looks like yours. I don’t remember much after that.”
The other day I was playing golf and saw an unusual thing. A golfer became so mad that he threw his brand-new set of golf clubs into the lake. A few minutes later he came back, waded into the lake, and retrieved his clubs. He took his car keys out of the bag—then threw the clubs back into the water.
The other night I was invited out for a night with the ‘girls.’ I told my husband that I would be home by midnight, “I promise!” Well, the hours passed, and the Blue drinks went down way too easily. Around 3 a.m., a bit pissed, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started up and cuckooed three times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times.
I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution, in order to escape a possible conflict with him. (Even when totally smashed… 3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos totals 12 cuckoos MIDNIGHT!) The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, I told him ‘MIDNIGHT’… he didn’t seem pissed off in the least. Whew, I got away with that one! Then he said ‘We need a new cuckoo clock.’ When I asked him why, he said, ‘Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said ‘oh shit.’ Cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.
A man sees a sign outside a house – ‘Talking greyhound For Sale.’ He rings the bell; the owner appears and tells him the dog can be viewed in the backyard. The man sees a very nice looking greyhound sitting there.
“Do you really talk?” he asks the greyhound. “Yes,” the greyhound replies. After recovering from the shock of hearing the greyhound talk, the man asks, “So, tell me your story.”
The greyhound looks up and says, “Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA. “In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders; because no one imagined that a greyhound would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years. But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn’t getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at JFK Airport to do some undercover security work, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in.
I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded several medals. I got married, had a few puppies, and now I’ve just retired.” The man is amazed. He goes back into the house and asks the owner how much he wants for the greyhound.
“Ten Dollars,” the owner says. “Ten dollars? But this greyhound is absolutely amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheaply?”
“Because he’s a lying bastard. He’s never been out of the backyard!”