Wise Craics: Unanimous Revision
The bidding was proceeding furiously and strong when the Head Auctioneer suddenly announced, ‘A gentleman in this room has lost a wallet containing ten thousand pounds. If returned, he will pay a reward of two thousand pounds. There was a moment’s silence in the auction house and from the back of the room came a shout, ‘Two thousand five hundred.’
Three retirees, each with a hearing loss, were playing golf one fine March day. One remarked to the other, ‘Windy, isn’t it? ‘No,’ the second man replied, ‘it’s Thursday.’ The third man chimed in, ‘So am I. Let’s have a beer.’
The hospital’s consulting dietician was giving a lecture to several community nurses from the Southampton area of Hampshire. ‘The rubbish we put into our stomachs and consume should have killed most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is terrible. Fizzy drinks attack your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with msg.
Vegetables can be disastrous because of fertilizers and pesticides and none of us realizes the long-term damage being done by the rotten bacteria in our drinking water. However, there is one food that is incredibly dangerous and we all have, or will, eat it at some time in our lives. Now, is anyone here able to tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?’
A 65-year-old nursing sister sitting in the front row stood up and said, ‘Wedding cake.’
‘I’m in a terrible fix,’ moaned Raymond. ‘I’m in love with two girls and I don’t know which to marry.’
‘No problem,’ said Sean to the Englishman. ‘I know you’re not a Catholic, but I think the church could help you. Call in tomorrow morning, kneel down and try a sincere prayer to God – that should do the trick.’
Next morning Sean arrived to find Raymond with a beaming smile. ‘It worked; It’s a miracle,’ Raymond enthused. ‘I walked in, knelt down and there it was written in red across the altar cloth: AVE MARIA!’
Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside with only a pet dog for company. One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked, Father, me dog is dead. Could ya’ be saying’ A mass for the poor creature?’
Fr. Patrick replied, ‘I’m afraid not; we cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there are some Baptists down the lane, and there’s no tellin’ what they believe. Maybe they’ll do something for the creature.’ Muldoon said, ‘I’ll go right away Father. Do ya’ think $5,000 is enough to donate to them for the service?’
Fr. Patrick exclaimed, ‘Sweet Mary and Joseph. Why didn’t ya tell me the dog was Catholic?
In an Irish courtroom, 12 men sat on the jury. After the trial, the Judge asked for their verdict.
‘We find the man who stole the horse “Not Guilty”,’ said the foreman of the jury.
Two Irishmen were out shooting ducks. One took aim and hit a bird, which tumbled out of the sky to land at his feet. ‘Ah, you should have saved the bullet,” said the other. The fall would have killed him, anyway.’
One March evening, the boss of a big company needed to call one of his employees about an urgent problem with one of the main computers, dialed the employee’s home phone number and was greeted with a child’s whisper. ‘Hello.’
‘Is your daddy home?’ he asked.
‘Yes, ‘whispered the small voice.
‘May I talk with him?’
The child whispered, ‘No.’
Surprised, and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, ‘Is your Mommy there?’
‘May I talk with her?’
Again, the small voice whispered, ‘No.’
Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, ‘Is anybody else there?’
‘Yes, ‘whispered the child, ‘a policeman.’
Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee’s home, the boss asked, ‘May I speak with the policeman?’
‘No, he’s busy,’ whispered the child.
‘Busy doing what?’
‘Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman, ‘came the whispered answer.
Growing concerned and even worried as he heard what sounded like a Helicopter through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, ‘What is that noise?’
‘A hello-copper’ answered the whispering voice.
‘What is going on there?’ asked the boss, now truly alarmed.
In an awed -whisper, the child answered, ‘The search team just landed the hello-copper.’
Alarmed, concerned, and even more then just a little frustrated the boss asked, ‘What are they searching for?’ Still whispering, the young voice replied along with a muffled giggle: ‘ME.’
Dear Lord, So far this year I’ve done well. I haven’t gossiped; I haven’t lost my temper; I haven’t been greedy; grumpy; nasty; selfish; or overindulgent. I am very thankful for that. But in a few minutes, Lord, I’m going to get out of bed, and from then on I’m probably going to need a lot more help. Amen
A Senator was once asked about his attitude toward whisky, ‘If you mean the demon drink that poisons the mind, pollutes the body, desecrates family life, and inflames sinners, then I’m against it.
But if you mean the elixir of a New Year toast, the shield against winter chill, the taxable potion that puts needed funds into public coffers to comfort little crippled children, then I’m for it. This is my position, and I will not compromise.’
Ten Indications of a New Year Hangover
1. You get it into your head that chirping birds are the Devil’s pets.
2. Trying to gain control of the situation, you continue to tell your room to “Stay still.”
3. Looking at yourself in the mirror induces the same reaction as drinking a glass of fresh paint.
4. The bathroom reminds you of the fairground cry, “Step right up and give it whirl!”
5. You’d rather chew tacks than be exposed to sunlight.
6. You set aside an entire afternoon to spend some quality time with your toilet.
7. You replace the traditional praying on your knees with the more feasible praying in a fetal position.
8, Your catch phrase is, “Never again.”
9. You could purchase a new fridge on the proceeds from recycling the bottles around your bed.
10. Your new response to “Good morning,” is, “Be quiet!”
*Maury Collins is a Charter Member and past president of the John P. Kelly Division AOH and a proud first generation Irish American. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org