Paddy died in a fire

Paddy died in a fire and was burnt pretty badly. So the morgue needed someone to identify the body. His two best friends, Seamus and Sean, were sent for. Seamus went in and the mortician pulled back the sheet.

Seamus said “Yup, he’s burnt pretty bad. Roll him over”.

So the mortician rolled him over. Seamus looked and said “Nope, it ain’t Paddy.”

The mortician thought that was rather strange and then he brought Sean in to identify the body.

Sean took a look at him and said, “Yup, he’s burnt real bad, roll him over.”

The mortician rolled him over and Sean looked down and said, “No, it ain’t Paddy.”

The mortician asked, “How can you tell?”

Sean said, “Well, Paddy had two arseholes.”

“What? He had two arseholes?” asked the mortician.

“Yup, everyone knew he had two arseholes. Every time we went into town, folks would say, ‘Here comes Paddy with them two arseholes….’”

3 pints

An Irishman walks into a bar in London one lunchtime and orders three pints of Guinness. He takes them off to a table and starts drinking them, a sip at a time from each in sequence. It’s unusual but the barman’s busy and doesn’t ask. But the next day the Irishman comes back at lunch and does the same thing. And this goes on for a week before the barman eventually asks, “So, what’s with the three pints?”

The Irishman replies, “Simple. I have a brother back home in Dublin and another in New York, and we all promised we’d drink like this, as a way of staying close and keeping each other in mind, y’know.” Which satisfies the barman. Anyway, the days become weeks and months, the Irishman becomes a regular, everyone knows and loves him. The ritual becomes a part of the pub’s folklore.

One lunchtime, the Irishman comes in and orders two pints of Guinness.

Silence descends on the pub as the Irishman takes his pints to his table. The barman, awkward as all hell but feeling like he has to say something, comes over to the Irishman and says, “Er, listen, Paddy, I just wanted to say I - well, we - we’re all so sorry for your loss, and, er, if there’s anything we can, er, we can do to, y’know, help or anything…”

The Irishman looks up at the barman, his face a mask of incomprehension - until suddenly, understanding hits him and he starts laughing.

“What? You thought - aw c’mon man, it’s nothing like that! I just quit drinking!”

3 men in heaven

Three men arrive in heaven at the same time. St. Peter comes out to greet them.

“Sorry about this guys,” says St. Peter. “God didn’t realize just how many people would get into heaven, so we have a new policy. You now have to tell me the story of how you died, and if I think it’s sad or interesting enough, I’ll let you in.”

He walks up to the first man who is a nerdy, bookish sort in a bad business suit and says, “Tell me your story.”

“Okay,” says the man. “I thought I had a wonderful life. I had a beautiful wife and we had a lovely place on the 34th floor of an apartment building. I came home from work early today, and I saw my beautiful wife sleeping naked in bed with another man’s clothes on the floor. So of course I started looking for the bastard who slept with my wife.”

“Like I said, I lived in an apartment. There weren’t that many places to hide, but I couldn’t find him anywhere! Just when I was about to go confront my wife, I see him. The bastard was hiding outside the window, holding onto the windowsill. I go up to him and started stomping on his hands over and over again, but he wouldn’t let go. I finally kicked him in the face and he fell. Unfortunately, he landed on a bush and bounced to safety. In my anger, I grabbed my refrigerator and throw it out after him. However, the cord from the refrigerator wrapped around my leg and pulled me to my death.”

St. Peter nods and says, “You’re story is acceptable. Welcome to heaven.” He goes to the second man a brawny working-man type and says, “What’s your story?”

“I’m a window washer,” says the man. “I’ve been a window washer for over 20 years. Well today, I’m washing the windows of the 35th floor of this apartment building when my scaffolding breaks. I thought I was going to die, but I manage to catch myself on the windowsill of the story below. All of a sudden this maniac comes out and starts mashing my fingers. I try my best to hold on, but he kicks me in the face and I fall. Once again, I thought I was going to die, but I land on this hedge and bounce away no worse for the wear. I look up and BOOM. Dead. Last thing I saw was a refrigerator.”

St. Peter holds back a chuckle and lets him into heaven. He goes to the third man, a ridiculously handsome fellow with sandy-blonde hair, and asks, “What’s your story?”

“Alright,” says the man. “Picture this. You just got finished banging some dude’s wife. He comes home. You hide in the refrigerator.”

At the superbowl

A man is attending the Super Bowl, when he notices an empty seat. Thinking this to be strange, the man asks the person sitting next to the empty seat if he knows who sits there. The guy replies: Well, I bought two tickets for my wife and I a long time ago, but she passed away. So the man asks: Couldn’t you have brought someone else?

“They’re all at the funeral.”

Cannibals and fruit

Three men are shipwrecked on an island infested with cannibals. They were brought to the cannibal king who tells the three men that they must complete a series of tests so that they will not be eaten. The first task, he tells them to bring back 10 pieces of the same fruit. So they go out to scavenger the island.

The first man brings back apples and is told for the next task, he must shove all 10 up his butt without a noise or emotion. He gets one and a half up there before he screams and gets killed and eaten.

The second man comes back with 10 berries and told of the same task. As he is about to get the 10th and final berry in, he bursts out in laughter and gets killed and eaten. Up in heaven the first man meets the second man and asked why he laughed since he was so close to freedom. He replied, “I couldn’t help it, I saw the other guy walk in with pineapples.”