Posted by
Street Carnage
• 03.17.17 11:11 am

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Though I hate to use Identity politics in any argument, St. Patrick’s Day is a bit unique. My blood is nearly 100 hundred percent Irish and I hate every bit of it on St. Paddy’s.

St. Paddy’s is man’s basest nature of hedonism and Irish culture. Yes, the Irish are found of the drink, perhaps a devil for it but no one mentions our unusual accomplishments to the English language in Joyce, Yeats, Wilde, or Beckett. All Irish accomplishments are thrown out the window for our perhaps unique sin or curse;alcohol. The public drinks for us like it’s going out of style.

The general public engorges themselves on the Irish American proto fatalistic tradition of alcoholism. Everyone seems to forget that the term “Paddy Wagon” which earned it’s title. The Irish were such a miserable lot that the NYPD had to hired half of the Irish to arrest the other half for being such violent drunks.

This miserable tradition continues today but has spread to the general public. When I walk the streets of Manhattan on St. Paddy’s I see 15-21 year old Staten Island Italians andthe children of Westchester ride the metro lines to annihilate them-selves on booze. They drown themselves in Gatorade and vodka and before 3pm they have alcohol poisoning. Your soda-bottle mixed drink reeking in Everclear doesn’t fool a soul.

This brings me to the larger point of alcohol indulgence. I’m an alcoholic, I once got black out because it was cloudy outside. A day devoted to the drink serves no one, especially the one that divulges in it.

This is my general proverb to the young on out St. Paddy’s; “You’re 16 and you shouldn’t be drinking hard liquor before 9pm. I’m an Irish alcoholic who has been drinking for a decade, don’t ruin my name by vomiting in the subway car. “

Happy St. Paddy’s

-JAMES F.X HILER


Comments
  1. The Fuck Of The Irish says:

    Two Irishmen are sitting in a small town bar, where Mick bragged to Sean,
    “You know, I had me every woman in this town, except of course, me mother and me sister.”

    “Well,” Sean replied, “between you and me we got ’em all.”

    Two Irishmen were digging a ditch directly across from a brothel.
    Suddenly, they saw a rabbi walk up to the front door, glance around and duck inside.
    “Ah, will you look at that?” one ditch digger said.
    “What’s our world comin’ to when men of th’ cloth are visitin’ such places?”

    A short time later, a Protestant minister walked up to the door and quietly slipped inside.
    “Do you believe that?” the workman exclaimed.
    “Why, ’tis no wonder th’ young people today are so confused, what with the example clergymen set for them.”

    After an hour went by, the men watched as a Catholic priest quickly entered the whorehouse.
    “Ah, what a pity,” the digger said, leaning on his shovel. “One of th’ poor lasses must be ill.”

    Four reasons we know Jesus was Irish…

    1. He lived at home until he was thirty.
    2. Just before he died, he went out drinking with his buddies.
    3. His mother thought he was God.
    4. He thought his mother was a virgin.

    Early one morning in rural Ireland two leprechauns knocked on the door of a convent and
    asked for the Mother Superior.
    The Mother Superior comes out and the older of the two leprechauns asks,
    “Mother Superior, are there any wee little leprechaun nuns in this convent?”

    Rather startled and bemused the Mother Superior says.
    “No, there aren’t any wee little leprechaun nuns in this convent.”

    “Well then,” asks the older leprechaun,
    “are there any wee little leprechaun nuns at any convent in this county?”

    Even more confused than bemused the Mother Superior says.
    “No, there aren’t any wee little leprechaun nuns in any convent in this county.”

    “Well let me ask you one more question then,” says the older leprechaun,
    “Do you know of any wee little leprechaun nuns at any convent in any county in all of Ireland?”

    Now confused and a little bewildered Mother Superior says.
    “No, I know of no wee little leprechaun nuns at any convent in any county in all of Ireland.”

    The younger of the two leprechauns is now looking very downcast, staring at his shoes.
    Then the older leprechaun puts his hands on his hips and turns to the younger one and says,
    “There you go Sean, you heard her, I told you you was screwing a penguin!”

    Sean goes into a confessional box and says, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose woman.”

    The Priest says, “Is that you, Sean?”

    “Yes, Father, it is I.”

    “Who was the woman you were with?”

    “I cannot tell you, for I do not wish to sully her reputation.”

    The priest asks, “Was it Brenda O’Malley?”

    “No, Father.”

    “Was it Fiona MacDonald?”

    “No, Father.”

    “Was it Ann Brown?”

    “No, Father, I cannot tell you.”

    The priest says, “I admire your perseverance but you must atone for your sins.
    Your penance will be five Our Fathers and four Hail Mary’s.”

    Sean goes back to his pew and his buddy Mike slides over and asks, “What happened?”

    Sean replies, “I got five Our Fathers, four Hail Mary’s and three good leads.”

    Irishman’s Letter to the DHSS in respect of receiving AIDS Leaflet

    Dear Sir,

    I have just received the Aids leaflet through my door and would like to apply
    straight away for Aids. I have been on the dole for the past 10 years and have
    been living on Supplementary Benefit and every other State aid I could get.

    It now seems I will be getting aid for sex. It’s a pity this Aids has come so late,
    as I already have 15 children, and wondered if you will be paying back payments.

    Your leaflet states that the more sex I have the more chance I have of getting Aids.
    My only problem here is persuading the wife, who is not too keen after 15 kids.
    Several years ago, I bought some sex aids but she showed little interest, and they
    were hardly used. Would there be any chance of a refund for the 17.28 paid
    out for these gadgets?

    Anyway I will now explain her that the Government will be paying us for all the sex we have,
    and I’m sure she’ll agree that we cannot let a chance like this slip by. You also state
    that I can pass on my Aids, but as you will understand with a wife and 15 kids to feed,
    there won’t be much left to pass on. If, by any chance, there is a bit left, thought,
    I will pass it on to my poor old mother-in-law who only has her pension.

    I understand from your leaflet that I can get Aids through a blood transfusion, and I
    intend to write to my local hospital straight away to see when I can have one. Will the
    Aids I get from the hospital be deducted from the Aids I get from you? Perhaps you
    will write and let me know?

    I am a firm believer in getting every Aid I can from the country, and I’m sure you’ll
    agree that by my past performance, I do qualify for this one. Could you let me know
    how much I will get paid each time, and will it be weekly or monthly payments?

    Yours faithfully,

    Seamus O’Toole

    Did you hear about the two Irish gay men?
    Michael Fitzpatrick and Patrick Fitzmichael

    It was Friday evening and having just been paid, Seamus and Murphy were
    trying to decide where to go that night.
    “I know,” says Murphy, “there’s a great club in town we ought to try.”
    “What’s it like?” asked Seamus.
    Murphy answers, “Well, you go into the club, up to the bar where they give you a free drink.
    Then you go upstairs for a free shag. Then you go back to the bar and have another free drink.
    After 20 minutes you go back upstairs for another shag. After this you go back to the bar for another
    free drink, then go upstairs and have another free shag! After this you go downstairs, have another
    free drink, and leave. On the way out, they give you a hundred quid and you go home.”
    “Saints be praised!” said Seamus, “That sounds great. Have you been there before?”
    “No,” says Murphy, “but me sister has!”

    Tim Kelly was walking through a dim passageway when someone spoke to him.
    “Good evenin”, Kelly,” said the muffled figure.
    “Don’t ye be knowin” your old friend Grogan any more?”
    Kelly stared at Grogan, whose face was a patchwork of bandages and adhesive plaster.
    One arm was in a sling and he was leaning on a crutch.
    “Saints!” cried Kelly. “Was ye hit by a train, Grogan, or did ye merely jump from the trestle?”
    “It could’ve been both,” said Grogan, “considerin’ the feel of it.
    But the truth is, Murphy did this to me. Himself comes in with a murtherin’
    big shillelagh in his hand, and the inconsiderate creature beat the livin’ bejazus outa me.”
    “He did indade,” said Kelly. “But couldn’t ye defend y’rself, Grogan?
    Hadn’t ye nothin’ in your own hand?”
    “Aye that I did. Mrs. Murphy’s tit,” said Grogan.
    “A beautiful thing it is, but not worth a dom in a fight.”

    Paddy was picked up on a rape charge. He was placed in a lineup with ten other fellows
    and the accusing woman was escorted into the room.
    Paddy jumped forward, and screamed, “That’s her! That’s her! Oi’d recognize her anywhere!”

    An Irish priest and a Rabbi found themselves sharing a compartment on a train.
    After a while, the priest opened a conversation by saying,
    “I know that, in your religion, you’re not supposed to eat pork…
    Have you actually ever tasted it?
    The Rabbi said, “I must tell the truth. Yes, I have, on the odd occasion.”
    Then the Rabbi had his turn of interrogation. He asked,
    “Your religion, too…I know you’re supposed to be celibate. But….”
    The priest replied, “Yes, I know what you’re going to ask.
    I have succumbed once or twice.”
    There was silence for a while.
    Then the Rabbi peeped around the newspaper he was reading and said,
    “Better than pork, isn’t it?”

    A modest Irish young lass had just purchased some lingerie and asked if she
    might have the sentence, “If you can read this you’re too damn close!”
    embroidered on her panties and bra.
    “Yes Madame,” said the clerk, “I’m quite certain that could be done.
    Would you prefer block or script letters?”
    “Braille,” she replied, innocently lowering her lashes.

    Aer Lingus (The Irish National Airline) recently introduced a special half fare for
    wives who accompanied their husbands on business trips.
    Expecting valuable testimonials, the PR department sent out letters to all the wives of
    businessmen who had used the special rates, asking how they enjoyed their trip.
    Letters are still pouring in asking, “What trip?”

    Two Irish lovers are sitting on a bench, in a park.
    They are holding hands, but the lady is nervously twisting her hands.
    Mary: “Patrick. I have something to tell you.”
    Patrick: “Well, what’s on your mind? You know you can tell me everything.”
    Mary: “It’s so terrible.”
    Patrick: “You know you can trust me. What is it?”
    Mary: “Well, it was a few years ago. Father lost his job, and no money in sight.”
    Patrick: “So, what is it?”
    Mary: “Oh. We were so desperate. For some time I had to turn prostitute!”
    Patrick: “WHAT!”
    Mary: “We needed the money so bad!”
    Patrick: “There is no good reason for this! Endangering your very soul!
    How could you? YOU! Mary, this is more than I can stand!”
    Mary: “Not you, Pat! No! I thought you’d understand.
    I thought you could still love me, even though I had been a whore.”
    Patrick: “Oh! You. Well, that’s OK. For a moment I thought you said ‘Protestant’!”

    An Irish man went to his first American baseball game.
    As the first batter made a hit, fans jumped up yelling, “RUN! RUN!”
    The Irish man jumped up as well yelling, “Run, laddie! Run laddie!”
    The next batter got up and made his hit. The fans again cheered, “RUN! RUN!”
    The Irish man jumped up yelling “Run laddie! Run laddie!”
    The third batter got up got ball 1…ball 2…ball 3… ball 4…..
    The umpire yelled “Take your base!”
    The batter jogged toward the base.
    The Irish man jumped up and yelled “Run laddie! Run laddie!”
    Another fan looked at him and said, “He does not need to run, he has 4 balls!”
    The Irish man’s jaw dropped, and turned and said, “Walk with pride, mon! Walk with pride!”

    A son and father went to see a doctor since the father was getting very ill.
    The doctor told the father and son that the father was dying from cancer.
    The father, who was an Irishman, turned to his son and said,
    “Son, even on this gloomy day, it’s our tradition to drink to health as it is in death;
    so let’s go to the pub and celebrate my demise.”
    Reluctantly, the son followed his father to the local pub.
    There, while enjoying their ale, the father saw some old friends
    and told them he was dying from AIDS. Shocked, the son turned to his father
    and said, “Father, it is not AIDS you are dying from. It is cancer.
    Why did you lie to those men?”
    The father replied: “Aye, my son, you are right;
    but I don’t want those fellas sleeping with your mom when I’m gone.”

    An Englishman, a Scotsman, and an Irishman are all to give speeches to the Deaf Society.
    All are keen to make an impression on their audience.
    The Englishman goes first and to the surprise of his colleagues,
    starts by rubbing first his chest and then his groin.
    When he finishes the Scotsman and Irishman ask him what he was doing.
    “Well” he explained” By rubbing my chest I indicated breasts and thus Ladies
    and by rubbing my groin I indicated balls and thus Gentlemen.
    So my speech started: Ladies and Gentlemen.”
    On his way up to the podium the Scotsman thought to himself I’ll go one better
    than that English bastard and started his speech by making an antler symbol with his fingers
    above his head before also rubbing his chest and his groin.
    When he finished his colleagues asked what he was doing.
    “Well” he explained” By imitating antlers and then rubbing my chest and
    groin I was starting my speech by saying Deer Ladies and Gentlemen.”
    On his way up to the podium the Irishman thought to himself I’ll go one further
    than those mainland bastards and started his speech by making an antler symbol
    above his head, rubbing his chest, and then his groin, and then masturbating furiously.
    When he finished his colleagues asked him what he was doing.
    “Well” he explained,” by imitating antlers, rubbing my chest and then my groin
    and then masturbating I was starting my speech by saying
    Deer Ladies and Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure…….”

    An Irishman walks into a bar and asks for two beers.
    He then pulls a small green-skinned man out of his pocket and puts him on the counter.
    As he’s drinking one drink and the green man is drinking the other,
    an Englishman down the bar who has had a few too many drinks says
    “Hey, what’s that little green thing down there?”
    The green man runs down the bar gives the Englishman a raspberry,
    ” SPLBLBLBLT!,” right in the face and runs back to the Irishman.
    The Englishman mops himself off and says to the Irishman, “Hey, what is that thing, anyway?”
    The Irishman replies, “Have some respect. He’s a leprechaun.”
    “Oh, all right.” the Englishman says sullenly. They all go back to drinking beer.
    An hour or so later, the Englishman is really plastered.
    “Boy, that leprechaun sure is an ugly little bastard!” he says.
    The leprechaun runs down the bar and gives the Englishman a raspberry again- SPLBLBLBLBT!
    This time the Englishman is really mad! “Tell that leprechaun that if he does that again
    I’ll Chop his willie right off, I will!” he shouts.
    “You can’t do that,” says the Irishman. “Leprechauns don’t have willies.”
    “How do they pee, then?” asks the Englishman.
    “They don’t,” says the Irishman. “They go SPLBLBLBLBT.”

    Mahoney said to his friend McMaken, “I haven’t been feelin’ meself lately!”
    “‘Tis a good thing, too — that was a nasty habit you had!” responded McMaken.

    “Help! Help!” cried the young woman as she staggered up the steps of the police station.
    “An Irishman molested me!”
    “How’d you know he was Irish?” inquired the sergeant at the desk.
    “I had to help him,” she gasped.

    Q: What do you call an Irish pervert?
    A: An Irishman who prefers sex to whisky.

    An Irishman walks out of a pub in Boston, stumbling back and forth with a key in his hand.
    A cop on the beat sees him and approaches, “Can I help you?”
    “Yesss, sssshombody stole me car!” the Irishman replies.
    The cop asks, “Well now, where was your car the last time you saw it?”
    “It was at the end of this key.”
    About this time the cop looks down to see that the Irishman’s member is being
    exhibited for all to see. He then asks, “Are you aware that you are exposing yourself?”
    The Irishman looks down woefully and moans, “OOOH GOD… they got me girlfriend too!!”

    A wedding occurred, just outside Cavan in Ireland.
    To keep tradition going, everyone got pissed and the bride’s and groom’s families had a
    storming rage and begin wrecking the reception room and generally
    kicking the crap out of each other.
    The police get called in to break up the fight.
    The following week, all members of both families appear in court.
    The fight continues in the courtroom until the Judge
    finally brings calm with the use of his hammer, shouting “Silence in Court.”
    The courtroom goes silent and Paddy (the best man) stands up and says,
    “Judge.. I was the best man at the wedding and I think I should explain what happened.”
    The Judge agrees and asks Paddy to take the stand.
    Paddy begins his explanation by telling the court that it is traditional in a
    Cavan wedding that the Best Man gets the first dance with the Bride.
    The judge says “OK.”
    “Well”, said Paddy, “After I had finished the first dance, the music kept going,
    so I continued dancing to the second song, and after that the music kept going and
    I was dancing to the third song when all of a sudden the Groom leapt over the table,
    ran towards us and gave the Bride an unmerciful kick in her privates.”
    The Judge instantly responded… “Wow.. that must have hurt!”
    Paddy replies “HURT!.. He broke three of my fingers!”

    One fine day in Ireland, a guy is out golfing and gets up to the 16th hole.
    He tees up and cranks one. Unfortunately, it goes into the woods on the side of the fairway.
    He goes looking for his ball and comes across this little guy with this huge
    knot on his head and the golf ball lying right beside him.
    “Goodness,” says the golfer then proceeds to revive the poor little guy.
    Upon awakening, the little guy says,
    “Well, you caught me fair and square. I am a leprechaun. I will grant you three wishes.”
    The man says “I can’t take anything from you, I’m just glad
    I didn’t hurt you too badly,” and walks away.
    Watching the golfer depart, the leprechaun says “Well, he was a nice enough guy,
    and he did catch me, so I have to do something for him.
    I’ll give him the three things that I would want.
    I’ll give him unlimited money, a great golf game, and a great sex life.”
    Well, a year goes past (as they often do in jokes like this) and the same golfer is out
    golfing on the same course at the 16th hole.
    He gets up and hits one into the same woods and goes off looking for his ball.
    When he finds the ball he sees the same little guy and asks how he is doing.
    The leprechaun says, “I’m fine, and might I ask how your golf game is?”
    The golfer says, “It’s great! I hit under par every time.”
    “I did that for you,” responds the leprechaun,
    “And might I ask how your money is holding out?”
    “Well, now that you mention it, every time I put my hand in my pocket,
    I pull out a hundred dollar bill” he replied.
    The leprechaun smiles and says, “I did that for you. And might I ask how your sex life is?”
    Now the golfer looks at him a little shyly and says, “Well, maybe once or twice a week.”
    Floored the leprechaun stammers, “Once or twice a week?”
    The golfer looks at him sheepishly and says,
    “Well, that’s not too bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish.”

    Top Ten Punchlines to Dirty Irish Jokes

    10. She’s out in the barn making Bailey’s Irish Cream.
    9. I thought ‘Dublin’ was having sex with twins.
    8. Here’s one snake St. Patrick didn’t chase out of Ireland.
    7. That’s not the Blarney Stone, but don’t stop kissing it.
    6. I saw Ellen DeGeneres and Anne Heche practicing their Gaelic.
    5. Lord of the Dance? More like ‘Lord of my pants’!
    4. These lucky charms are magically delicious!
    3. Keep looking — I know there’s a shamrock in there somewhere.
    2. That is my thick Irish brogue, and yes, I’m happy to see you.

    And the number one punchline to dirty Irish jokes:

    1. Ted Kennedy.

    Lady Crofton-Smythe was giving an upper-crust party, and had hired Lena,
    a girl recently come to London from County Cork, as a maid.
    As Lena was setting up the tea service, Lady C-S told her to be certain
    that there were sugar tongs available. Lena had never heard of sugar tongs,
    and asked the Lady what they were and why they were used. Lady C-S, always
    happy to Enlighten the Unenlightened, told Lena that the problem lay with
    the gentlemen, who would go to the loo, and to do what they needed to do,
    had to touch things which were less than acceptably sanitary.
    Yes, even the Nobility was subject to this masculine frailty.
    “Sure, Ma’am, ’twas nothing like this Oi ever saw in Ireland,” Lena said, impressed.
    “Well, the Irish will learn manners someday, Lena,” said the Lady,
    with an instinctive lifting of her nose. After the guests had begun arriving
    that evening, Lady C-S was dismayed and infuriated not to see any sugar tongs on the tea service.
    Lena, trembling, came quickly in answer to the Lady’s angry shout.
    “But…but, m’Lady, sure, an’ Oi put the tongs out just as you told me to.”
    Her furious employer pointed to the tea table, devoid of tongs.
    “Then where are they, young woman?” “Why, they’re in the loo, of course.”

    A good Irish man, John O’Reilly, met regularly with his toastmasters club.
    One evening they were hitting the Guiness Stout and having a contest as to 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?”

    That won him the top prize for the 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, “Aye, what was your toast?”

    John said, “Here’s to spending the rest of me life sitting in church beside me wife.”

    “Oh me 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 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!”

    A new priest at his first mass was so nervous he couldn’t stand still.
    He asked Father Murphy for some advice.
    Father Murphy replied, “When I’m worried about gettin’ nervous
    on the pulpit, I take a wee bit o’ whiskey. Just to calm my nerves.”
    So the next Sunday he took the older priest’s advice.
    Before the mass, he got nervous and took a drink. He
    then proceeded to talk up a storm.
    Upon return to his office after mass, he found the following note on his door:

    1. A few sips of whiskey. Not the whole bottle.
    2. There are 10 commandments, not 12.
    3. There are 12 disciples, not 10.
    4. Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.
    5. Jacob wagered his donkey, he did not bet his ass.
    6. We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J.C.
    7. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as
    Senior, Junior, and the Spook.
    8. David slew Goliath, he did not kick the shit out of him.
    9. When David was hit by a rock and knocked off his donkey,
    don’t say “He was stoned off his ass.”
    10. We do not refer to the cross as the Big T!
    11. When Jesus broke the bread at the Last Supper he said,
    “Take this and eat it, for it is my body”; he did not say, Eat me.”
    12. The Virgin Mary is not referred to as the, “Mary with the Cherry”.
    13. The recommended grace before a meal is not:
    “Rub-A-dub-dub, thanks for the grub, yea God”
    14. Next Sunday there will be a taffy-pulling contest at St. Peter’s,
    not a peter-pulling contest at St. Taffy’s.

    A young Irish girl goes into her priest on Saturday morning for confession.
    “Father, forgive me for I have Sinned.”
    “You’ve Sinned?”
    “Yes, I went out with me boyfriend Friday night.
    He held me hand twice, kissed me three times, and made love to me two times.”
    “Daughter! I want you to go straight home, squeeze seven
    lemons into a glass, and drink it straight down.”
    “Will that wash away me Thin?”
    “No, but it will get the silly smile off your face.”

    Irishman trying to learn golf and having a terrible time of it.
    “I’d give just about anything to get this right!” he says aloud.
    Straight on the Devil appears and says “Anything?”
    “Well, short of selling my soul, yes.” “How about giving up sex
    for the rest of your life?”
    “Done and done!”
    He finishes the game in rare good form and rumor of his deal spreads
    thru the clubhouse. One of the members, a reporter, see a story here and asks him,
    “Sir, is it true you made a deal with the Devil to become a great golfer?”
    “True, enough.”
    “And you gave up sex as your part of the bargain?”
    “True again!”
    “And may I have your name, sir?”
    “Certainly. Father Mike O’Ryan.”

    The old priest was becomin’ faint of heart and overly upset at the mention of
    “adultery” in the confession.
    He gently suggested to the flock that they say that they had “fallen” instead.
    He’d know what they meant and it wouldn’t be so distressing.
    The priest lived a good number of years and finally passed on, and a new priest was appointed.
    After a few weeks, the new priest paid a visit to the mayor.
    “Y’ve got to do something about the sidewalks and curbs, Mr. Mayor.
    I’m alarmed at how many parishoners report
    to me that they’ve fallen of late.”
    The mayor figures out what is happening and howls with laughter.
    Says the priest indignantly, “You wouldna think the problem was so
    funny when I tell you your own wife has fallen twice this past week!”

    Ferguson the blacksmith came in with a badly damaged foot.
    The doctor was surprised, for Ferguson was a careful man.
    “What happened to you, Paddy?” he asked.
    “Well, thirty-three years ago I was a young apprentice with Twomey of Ballinanaspickbuidhe……”
    “But about your foot…..?”
    “This is about me foot. Twomey had a daughter and your eyes could gaze on
    her like the way a bullock would eat good grass.
    The first night I was there she came in when I was in bed and asked if
    I was comfortable and if I wanted anything and I said I didn’t.
    The next night she came in when I was in bed and she wearing her nightdress and
    she asked me if there was any single thing she could get me or
    do for me and I told her I was as comfortable as a bug in a rug.
    The next night she came in and the girl hadn’t a thing on her and she asked me
    if she could do anything for me and not wanting to keep her standing in the
    cold and she without a shift I said there was nothing.”
    “What has that got to do with your foot, Ferguson?” asked the doctor impatiently.
    “Sure it was only this morning that I finally thought of what she meant
    and I was so annoyed with meself that I threw me ten-pound hammer against the wall and it
    rebounded and broke me ankle.”

    Bridget Quinn was the parish’s oldest surviving “eligible bachelor-ette.”
    She’s already outlasted two pastors! She never gives up hope.
    Never seems to run out of man-hunting stunts, either.
    Her latest effort — at the parish annual singles dance — was a classic.
    She jumped up on the bandstand, her right hand clenched into a fist,
    raised high, and then she saucily announced:
    “Any one of you handsome, virile devils who can guess what’s in me’
    hand can win a week’s worth of romantic, candlelight dinners — just da’ two of us, me an’ you!!!
    Nobody spoke up. Dead silence. Then, a witty, older senior gentleman shouts out,
    “Is it an elephant?” Miss Quinn squealed for joy:
    “Glory be to God, that’s close enough – – – dinner tis’ at seven, me boyo!”

  2. I love St. Paddy’s day because I love PUKE. I love pounding the tonsils of chicks, chicks with dicks, till they gag chunks of my diseased dicks putrid sour dough all over themselves and me crotch.
    So on this day of puke celebrating I give you my favorite puke website.
    Enjoy.
    http://motherless.com/G0274699

  3. Slobbo Kuminside, Proud Eastern European says:

    The Irish are drunk trash.

  4. Boris Yeltsin says:

    ^
    And they drink piss unlike us Vodka guzzling Russians.

  5. OogaBooga says:

    St. Patrick was Italian.

  6. dick lubin says:

    St. Peter was a Pedo.

  7. Kill All Fags says:

    OogaBooga is a fag.

  8. OogaBooga says:

    Awww.

  9. TJ says:

    Awww he says. The sound of a content child molestor.

  10. STINKY says:

    Santacon.

  11. Stabby says:

    NO ONE likes recovered alcoholics douche- fuck. Stop your fucking preaching and go get a 40.

  12. Stabby says:

    Gavin- you should take some of that Vice money and try to make your wife and kids white. Seriously.

  13. raymi says:

    I stayed in.

  14. Happy Room says:

    hahahha very nice post i like it and very nice site and i also share it wit my friends
    http://run2.online

  15. Stabby says:

    I’m still dreaming about Gavin’s cock everyday.

  16. That little voice inside says:

    “Gavin- you should take some of that Vice money and try to make your wife and kids white. Seriously.”

    McInnes got peanuts from VICE. He was flushed down before they turned into a politically progressive, multiplatform media colossus. If Gavin really had fuck-you-money he would run his own show right here on Street Carnage instead of slaving for a Greek loanshark, a Jewish Canuck and a NJ guido.


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