You Might Be An Irishman If...
*Or.. ya MIGHT Be an Irish Redneck*

You drink beer from a longneck bottle because your doctor told you to distance yourself from alcohol. 

You think tea is tint for an aquarium. 

You think St. Patrick's Day is THE major holiday of the year. 

You think singing songs in a strange dialect is a God-given right. 

You believe God created Ireland and the rest happened by accident.

 
You think a hangover is just the morning blues. 

You think water is only for fish -- and bathing (occasionally) 

You think God gave the Israelites Guinness in the wilderness. 

You think all beautiful women are Irish. 

You think the Celtics are a ceilidh band. 

You think Boston is in Ireland. 

You think Scotch-Irish is a mixed drink. 

You think the restroom is a place to sleep. 

You think lite beer is a punishment. 

You think whiskey punch is a sporting event at the pub. 

You think a deaf and dumb, tall, statuesque sex god/goddess that owns a brewery is the perfect mate. 

You think a liquid diet is to consume nothing but poteen. 

You think England is the place you're condemned to if you're bad. 

You think Dublin is the world capital. 

You think a sober Irishman is friendless -- or broke -- or dead. 

You  think the two-step dance is a result of eating Mexican food. 

You  give an empty Bushmills bottle a wake. 

You see leprechauns after the pub closes -- always twins. 

The guard says "How many fingers am I holding up?" and you say "All of 'em." 

You know what St. Stephen's Day is. 

You think a street light pole is a prosthetic device to help you stand up. 

You think that New Year's resolutions are fine -- for that night! 

You think God gave the Irish whiskey to keep them from taking over the world. 

You Might Be An Irishman if You Believe That....

... All harps have a soul.
... All music is Irish -- originally.
... God has a sense of humor.
... A twelve-step meeting is where you find two pubs right next door to each other. 
... God invented Guinness bottles with small openings to keep the Irish from falling in and drowning.
... The last song of the evening is the end of the world.

A Great Irish Toast...

A good Irish man, John O'Reilly, met regularly with his toastmasters club.  One evening they were hitting the Guinness Stout and having a contest at who could make the best toast.  John O'Reilly hoisted his beer and said, "Here's to spending the rest of me life between the legs of me wife!"  Well, that won him the top prize for the best toast of the night!

He went home and told his wife, Mary, "I won the prize for the best toast of the night." She said, "An, what was your toast?" John said, "Here's to spending the rest of me life sitting in church beside me wife."  "Oh that is very nice indeed, John!", Mary said.

The next day Mary ran into one of John's toasting buddies on the street corner.  The man chuckled leeringly and said, "John won the prize the other night with a toast about you Mary!"

She said, "Aye and I was a wee bit surprised meself!  You know, he's only been there twice!  Once he fell asleep and the other time I had to pull him by the ears to make him come."

Drunk AGAIN?!

An Irishman had been drinking at a pub all night.  The bartender finally said the bar was closing.  The Irishman stood up to leave and fell flat on his face.  He tried to stand one more time, same result.  He figured he'd crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe he would sober up. Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face so he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home.  When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face.  He crawled through the door and into his bedroom.  When he reached his bed he tried one more time to stand up. This time he managed to pull himself upright but he quickly fell right into bed and went sound asleep. He was awakened the next morning to see his wife standing over him saying "You went out again last night and got blind drunk again." "What makes you say that?" he asked, putting on an innocent look. "The pub called -- you left your wheelchair there again!"

DUBLIN BANK ROBBERY

This is just too funny not to share.  Excerpted from an article that appeared in the Dublin Times about a bank robbery on March 2.

Once inside the bank shortly after midnight, their efforts at disabling the security system got underway immediately.  The robbers, who expected to find one or two large safes filled with cash & valuables, were surprised to see hundreds of smaller safes throughout the bank.  The robbers cracked the first safe's combination, and inside they found only a small bowl of vanilla pudding.  recorded on the bank's audio tape system, one robber said, "At least we'll have a bit to eat."  The robbers opened up a second safe, and it also contained nothing but vanilla pudding.

The process continued until all safes were opened.  They did not find one pound sterling, a diamond, or an ounce of gold.  Instead, all the safes contained covered bowls of pudding.  Disappointed, the robbers made a quiet exit, each leaving with nothing more than a queasy, uncomfortably full stomach.

The newspaper headline read:

IRELAND'S LARGEST SPERM BANK ROBBED EARLY THIS MORNING...

Working Girl

An Irish girl went to London to work as a secretary and began sending home money and gifts to her parents. After a few years they asked her to come home for a visit, as her elderly father was getting frail and very hard of hearing.  She pulled up to the family home in a Rolls Royce and stepped out wearing diamonds and a full-length fur coat.  As she walked into the house her father said, "Hmmm--they seem to be paying secretaries awfully well in London these days."

The girl took his hands and said "Dad--I've been meaning to tell you something for years but I didn't want to put it in a letter.  Obviously I can't hide it from you any longer.  I've become a prostitute."  Her father gasped, put his hand on his chest and keeled over.  The doctor was called but the old man had clearly lost the will to live.  He was put to bed and the priest was called.  As the priest administered the Last Rites with the mother and daughter weeping and wailing nearby, the old man muttered weakly, "I'm a goner-- killed by my own daughter!  Killed by the shame of what she's become!"

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  "When Irish Eyes Are Smilin"

©2003 Beer Bytch Biz