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McQuillan walked into a bar and ordered martini after martini, each time removing the olives and placing them in a jar. When the jar was filled with olives and all the drinks consumed, the Irishman started to leave.

“S’cuse me,” said a customer, who was puzzled over what McQuillan had done. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” said the Irishman, “my wife just sent me out for a jar of olives.”

1. Generic-looking green van parked across the street with Notre Dame bumper sticker.

2. Every time you turn around the pitter-pattering stops and that green fire hydrant seems to have gotten a little closer.

3. Green lipstick marks on the butt of your Dockers.

4. You’re being followed by a large woman with a sultry voice and a dying career. (Oops! That’s a sign you’re being stalked by Chaka Khan.)

5. You don’t recall owning an anatomically correct lawn gnome.

6. Card delivered with the bouquet of 4-leaf clovers reads, “I bet you’re magically delicious!”

7. When you come home from work, the potatoes are missing from the cupboard and your parrot is singing “Danny Boy.”

8. Prank caller has a really corny Irish accent, and Richard Gere has an airtight alibi.

9. Those tiny green hairs on your toilet seat.

10. Sultry voice from shower soap dish asks, “Is that your shillelagh, or are you just happy to see me?”

11. Pink hearts, yellow moons, blue diamonds scratched on your car at knee-level, and Ross Perot is nowhere to be found.

12. Them little green pellets in the litter box ain’t M&M’s, Chester.

13. Every day this week you’ve noticed the same buckle shoes dangling just above the floor in the stall next to you.

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?”

A group of Americans was touring Ireland. One of the women in the group was a real curmudgeon, constantly complaining. The bus seats are uncomfortable, the food is terrible, it’s too hot, it’s too cold, and the accommodations are awful.

The group arrived at the site of the famous Blarney Stone. “Good luck will be following you all your days, if you kiss the Blarney Stone,” the guide said. “Unfortunately, it’s being cleaned today so no one will be able to kiss it. Perhaps we can come back tomorrow.”

“We can’t come back tomorrow,” the nasty woman shouted. “We have some other boring tour to go on. So I guess we can’t kiss the stupid stone.”

“Well now,” the guide said, “it is said that if you kiss someone who has kissed the stone, you’ll have the same good fortune.””And I suppose you’ve kissed the stone,” the woman scoffed.

“No, ma’am,” the frustrated guide said, “but I’ve sat on it.”

Sister Mary Margaret enters O ‘Flynn’s liquor shop.
“I’d like to buy a bottle of Irish whiskey”, she tells O ‘Flynn.
The owner of the store shakes his head and frowns.
“A bottle of Irish whiskey? And you being a nun too.”
“Oh no, no,” Sister Mary Margaret exclaims. “It’s for Father Reilly.
His constipation, you know.”
O’Flynn smiles, nods, and puts a bottle into a bag.
Sister Mary Margaret pays, takes the bag and goes on her way.
Later that day, O’Flynn closes shop for the day.
On his way home he passes an alley. There in the alley is Sister Mary Margaret.
She’s rip roaring drunk, the empty bottle at her side.
“Sister!” O’Flynn scolds.
“And you said it was for Father Reilly’s constipation.”
“It is,” answers Sister Mary Margaret.
“When he sees me, he’s gonna shit!”

© 2015