Irish Jokes — best jokes

This is a true story of the late Irish author Brendan Behan who one night collapsed in a diabetic coma in a Dublin street. It was at a time when he was at the height of his drunken notoriety and passes-by naturally thought he was dead drunk. They took him to the nearby surgery of one of Dublin's most fashionable and respected doctors. The doctor decided to take a cardiograph and, somewhat nervous of his patient, thought to humor him. He explained the workings of the cardiograph needle as it registered the faint heartbeats of the very sick and semiconscious Brendan.

"That needle there is writing down your pulses, Mr. Behan, and I suppose, in its own way, it is probably the most important thing you have ever written."

To which Behan replied: "Aye, and it's straight from me heart, too."

The origin of the bagpipes was being discussed and the representatives of different nations were eagerly disclaiming responsibility for the instrument. Finally, an Irishman said, "Well, I'll tell you the truth about it. The Irish invented them and sold them to the Scots as a joke; and the Scots haven't seen the joke yet!"

The Boston taxi driver backed into the stationary fruit stall and within seconds he had a cop beside him.

"Name?"

"Brendan O'Connor."

"Same as mine. Where are you from?"

"County Cork."

"Same as me......" The policeman paused with his pen in the air. "Hold on a moment and I'll come back and talk about the old county. I want to say something to this fella that ran into the back of your cab."

The American tourist in Dublin had been complaining a great deal about the food. "Here," he said to the waitress holding out a piece of meat for inspection, "do you call that pig?" "Which end of the fork, sir?" the waitress asked sweetly.

Some years ago, Michael J. Flanagan, a successful New York contractor, was standing on the deck of the Staten Island Ferry when a car got loose and sent him into the river where he drowned. The following Sunday his widow, all decked out in deepest black, was standing on the church steps after Mass, receiving condolences and enjoying every minute of it, when an old friend of the contractor came up.

"I'm sorry, Mary, for your trouble," offered the friend. "Did Mike leave you well fixed?"

"Oh, he did!" she said. "He left me almost a half million dollars."

"Well now, that's not bad for a man who couldn't read or write."

"Nor swim either," added the widow.

A surgeon and an architect, both English, were joined by an Irish politician, and all fell to arguing as to whose profession was the oldest. Said the surgeon, "Eve was made from Adam's rib, and that surely was a surgical operation." "Maybe," said the architect, "but prior to that, order was created out of chaos, and that was an architectural job." "Shure now," interrupted the politician, "but somebody created the chaos first."

Paddy was an inveterate drunkard. The priest met him one day, and gave him a strong lecture about drink. He said, "If you continue drinking as you do, you'll gradually get smaller and smaller, and eventually you'll turn into a mouse." This frightened the life out of Paddy. He went home that night, and said to his wife, "Bridget....if you should notice me getting smaller and smaller, will ye kill that blasted cat?"

Monahan stumbled into a saloon, half crocked. "Say," he said to the bartender, "how tall is a penguin?" "About two and a half feet." "Thank God!" cried Monahan. "I thought I ran over a nun!"

The local District Judge had given the defendant a lecture on the evils of drink. But in view of the fact that this was the first time the man had been drunk and incapable, the case was dismissed on payment of ten shillings costs.

"Now don't let me ever see your face again," said the Justice sternly as the defendant turned to go.

"I'm afraid I can't promise that, sir," said the released man.

"And why not?"

"Because I'm the barman at your regular pub!"

"Young man," said the judge, looking sternly at the defendant. "It's alcohol and alcohol alone that's responsible for your present sorry state!"

"I'm glad to hear you say that," replied Murphy, with a sigh of relief. "Everybody else says it's all my fault!"