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Pat and Mike had been drinking buddies and friends for years.
After having a few drinks in a bar, Mike said to Pat
“We have been friends for years and years and if I should die before you do would you do me a favor?
Get the best bottle of Irish whiskey you can find and pour it over my grave.”
Pat replied, “I would be glad to do that for you my old friend.
But would you mind if I passed it through my bladder first?”

Q: What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral?
A: One less drunk.

McCuen stumbled out of a saloon right into the arms of Father Logan.
“Inebriated again!” declared the priest. “Shame on you! When are you going to straighten out your life?”
“Father,” asked McCuen. “What causes arthritis?”
“I’ll tell you what causes it! Drinking cheap whiskey, gambling and carousing around with loose women.
How long have you had arthritis?”
“I don’t,” slurred McCuen. “The Bishop has it!”

Pat and Mike had been drinking buddies and friends for years.
After having a few drinks in a bar, Mike said to Pat
“We have been friends for years and years and if I should die before you do would you do me a favor?
Get the best bottle of Irish whiskey you can find and pour it over my grave.”
Pat replied, “I would be glad to do that for you my old friend.
But would you mind if I passed it through my bladder first?”

An Englishman, a Scott, and a Irishman walked into a pub.
Each orderd a pint of beer. Then a fly landed in each one’s beer.

The Englishman, turning slightly green, pushed his beer away and asked for another one.

The Scott took the fly out, shrugged, and drank his beer.

The Irisman pinched the fly between his fingers and yelled
“SPIT IT OUT!” “SPIT IT OUT!”



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