Timothy Byrne spent last weekend all the way over in America in Las Vegas. Believe it or don’t, he won over $100,000, playing mostly at the dice tables.
Knowing that all of his friends and relations would be trying to borrow money from him if they knew about his good fortune, he contemplated what he should do with his new found wealth. Upon arriving home late at night, he immediately went into the darkness of his backyard, where he dug a hole and buried the money.
Enraged and beside himself, Timothy fell upon the ground in despair. As he lay on the lawn he noticed a fresh layer of dew on the grass, and in that dew were footprints.
Timothy quickly jumped up and followed the footprints to the house next door, where an Asian immigrant, new to the country, had recently moved.
Timothy knew the immigrant spoke only his native language, but he also had seen the language professor from across the street speaking to the immigrant. He ran into his house, fetched his revolver and quickly darted over to the professor’s house.
Forcing open the professor’s door, Timothy charged inside and dragged the professor out of bed. Even though she was still in her nightgown, the professor immediately complied because the entire neighborhood was well aware of Timothy’s vile temper and what he might do while enraged.
Timothy pulled the professor still in her bare feet across the street to the immigrant’s house and burst through the front door. Timothy placed his revolver up to the immigrant’s head and said to the professor, “Tell this guy that if he doesn’t give me my money back right now, I’ll kill him.”
At that point Timothy cocked his pistol which was pointed directly at the immigrant’s temple.
Seeing the fear in the immigrant’s eyes the professor quickly relayed Timothy’s threat to him. The immigrant was very afraid for he immediately responded that he hid the money in his back yard under the wood pile.
The professor turned to face Timothy and translated, “He said he’s not going to tell you. He said he would rather die first.”
Health and long life to you.
The wife of your choice to you.
A child every year to you,
And life without rent to you
And may you be half an hour in heaven
Before the devil knows your dead.
A true Irishman sees things not as they are, but as they will never be.
At the Race Track
Kathleen O’Halloran and Molly McGraw, two of County Cork’s most honored teachers, were escorting a large group of 2nd, 3rd, and 4th graders on a field trip. They were going to the local race track to learn about the racing industry and most importantly about thoroughbred horses.
As the day wore on, naturally, the children needed to use the facilities. Kathleen O’Halloran escorted the girls to the ladies room and Molly McGraw took the boys to the men’s room.
While Molly was waiting outside the men’s room for the boys, one of them came out to her and said, “Ms. McGraw, we need help. We’re all too short to reach the urinal.”
Because there was no alternative, Molly went inside the men’s room and started lifting each one up high enough to use the urinal. The first boy immediately began spraying his all over the place, so Molly also had to “grab onto” each boy’s unit to prevent them from getting their clothes wet.
While she lifted one of the larger boys, she immediately noticed that he was rather well endowed. Molly wanted to avoid staring so she said to him, “You must be in the 4th.”
“Na, ma’am,” he replied. “I’m in the 6th, riding Golden Fleece, but thanks for the lift.”
A true Irishman gets more Irish the farther he gets from Ireland.
A Prayer for Humor:
Grant me a send of humor, Lord,
the saving grace to see a joke,
To win some happiness from life,
And pass it on to other folk.
Patty Takes a Lover
That naughty Patty Murphy has been seeing another man during the day while her hard working husband, Thomas, is out earning wages. One day her 8-year-old son, Michael, arrives home early from school quite unexpectedly, and bounds up to the master bedroom looking for his mum. The boy catches Patty and her lover in bed together, so Patty quickly pushes Michael into the closet and shuts the door because she doesn‘t know what else to do.
Just at that moment, as fate would have it, her hard working husband, Thomas, also comes home early unexpectedly seeking a little afternoon rendezvous with his wife. Thomas is downstairs shouting, “Patty, I’m home. Where are you, my love?”
Patty nervously pushes her lover into the closet with Michael.
The little boy quietly says, “Dark in here.”
Patty’s lover quietly replies, “Yes, it is.”
Michael whispers, “I have a skateboard.”
Says the lover, “That's nice.”
Michael senses an opportunity and asks, “Want to buy it?”
“No, thanks,” answers the lover.
“But, my dad's outside,” counters Michael in a slightly louder voice.
The lover catches on and quietly asks, “Ah! I see! How much?”
Michael replies, “Only $500.”
Two weeks later the same thing happens all over again. Michael and the lover are again inside the closet together.
Says Michael quietly, “Dark in here.”
The lover whispers, “Yes, it is.”
Michael quietly says, “I have a helmet.”
The lover, recalling the blackmail from last time, asks the enterprising boy, “I’ll bet you do. How much?”
Michael replies, “Just $300.”
“Fine,” replies the lover.
Just a few days later Thomas, the father, says to Michael, his son, “Go get your helmet and skateboard so you can show me how well you ride.”
Michael replies, “I can't, Dad. I sold them.”
Thomas asks, “What! How much did you sell them for?”
Says Michael, “$800.”
Thomas replies, “Michael, that's a terrible thing to overcharge your friends like that. That is much more than they are worth. We’re going to church and you are going to confess to Father O'Hara.”
At the church Thomas takes Michael to the confessional and tells the lad to go inside, shutting the door behind him.
Once inside the dark confessional Michael says, “Dark in here.”
Father O'Hara replies, “Don't start that crap again.”
A Blessing for Luck
May your pockets be heavy,
Your heart be light
And may good luck pursue you
Each Morning and night.
Any Irish lad or lass will tell you how they remember their dear mum singing lullabies to them while rocking them to sleep when they were young or sick in bed as a child. The song that Irish folks remember above all of the rest is Tura Lura.
It mattered not whether mother could sing well because the tune brings back such warm and glowing memories of mother's love that nothing else mattered when she was near. Most Irish folk would give anything to hear their dear mother sing Tura Lura just one more time.
For many of us that can never happen, so a rendition by the Irish Tenors will have to do. These lads sing better than angels from above, so be sure to tarry long enough to listen to their version of Tura Lura:
More Irish drinking stories, blessings and proverbs
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