These St Patricks Day jokes will get you in the spirit without the need for spirits. You know you've had a good St Pattys when leprechauns, unicorns, and pots of gold populate your lawn. Shláinte!
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Kelly and his wife have been out till the wee hours celebrating St. Patty’s Day. Despite his wife’s protestations, Kelly decides to drive home.
Predictably, he’s unable to drive in a remotely straight line. His car jerks violently from side to side, until finally he’s stopped by the Garda.
“Kelly,” says the officer, “you’ve obviously had more than a bit too much.”
“Ah yes, twas a grand evening!” Kelly admits.
“Well,” said the officer, “Did you realize you were weaving so violently that half a mile back your wife fell out of the car?”
“Oh thank God!” said Kelly. “I thought for sure I’d gone deaf.”
Finney and Flanigan are the only survivors of a shipwreck. They’re alone in a lifeboat in the Atlantic.
An ancient bottle floats by and Finney hauls it in. Thinking it might contain water, he loosens the cork.
A giant cloud spills out of the bottle and whoosh! - a genie appears. “Thank you for my freedom!” says the Genie. “In gratitude, I grant you one wish!”
Before Finney can even blink, Flanigan shouts, “Make the entire ocean into Guinness!”
The Genie nods, waves his hands, and suddenly the ocean rumbles and bubbles. In less than a minute, the genie is gone, and there is nothing but Guinness in every direction.
“Now you’ve done it, Flanigan,” says Finney, looking disgusted.
“What’s the matter?” says Flanigan. “We’ve got all the sustenance we’ll need for months!”
“True enough,” says Finney. “But now the only place to pee is the boat.”
A man from Dublin moves to County Cork. His first night there he patronizes the local pub, and orders three pints at the same time.
The bartender is curious, but doesn’t say anything. He serves the man his three pints. The new customer sits quietly and drinks all three beers.
The next night and the next, the same thing happens. Each night the man orders three pints all at once, and sits quietly drinking. Since nobody knows him, he becomes known to the locals as “The Three Pint Man.”
After a week, the bartender’s curiosity gets the best of him. He asks the man why he always orders three pints at once.
The friendly customer explains, “My two brothers have moved away. One to Canada and one to New Zealand. We all miss each other, so we agreed to always order three pints as a way of remembering each other every day.”
Word spreads. The locals respect and admire this quaint family ritual. Eventually “Three Pint Man” becomes a minor celebrity.
Then the day after St. Patricks Day he comes into the pub as usual, but only orders two pints. The bartender and the locals are shocked. They realize one of the brothers has met with an untimely end, and they respectfully let “Three Pint Man” drink in peace.
After a week, the bartender decides to offer his condolences. “I’m sorry about the loss of your brother,” says the barkeep. “Which one was it? The Canadian or the Kiwi?”
“What?” says Three Pint Man. “Oh no, nobody’s died, nothing like that. My brothers are both fine. It’s just that I overdid it a bit on St. Pats, so I decided to give up drinking for the rest of Lent.”
Father O’Brien has been toasting St. Patrick to the tune of half a bottle of wine. While driving erratically, he gets stopped by the police.
The officer notices the bottle of wine on the passenger seat and asks, “Father, have you had some wine this evening?”
“Of no, officer,” replies the priest. “Only water.”
“Well then, what about that half-empty bottle of wine on the seat?”
Father O’Brien looks at the wine and says, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! He’s done it again!”
Kevin Kelly knocks on Lacey O’Halloran’s door, and when she opens it, says, “Lacey, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“Oh, no, Kevin. Please tell me it’s not my husband Michael.”
“I’m afraid so, Lacey. He’s been in an accident at the brewery.”
“Oh, Lord, my Michael...”
“I’m sorry, Lacey. Michael is no longer with us on this earth.”
“Oh NO! Kevin, what happened?”
“It was a tragedy, Lacey. Michael fell headlong into a vat of Guinness. He drowned.”
“Oh that’s terrible! What a horrible way to die! Tell me Kevin, did he at least go quickly?”
“Well, not really, Lacey. In fact, he got out twice to relieve himself.”
O’Toole staggers home very late after a fine St. Patricks Day celebration at the local pub.
He removes his shoes to tiptoe inside, but trips on the carpet. He lands on his rear, smashing the two bottles in his back pockets. He manages not to yell, but is in great pain.
He pulls down his pants, turns his head to look in the hallway mirror, and sees cuts and blood all over his backside. So he fetches a box of bandages from the bathroom. He tries his best to cover all the bloody parts that he can see.
He then staggers off to bed.
At sunrise he wakes with a terrible headache, and a prodigious amount of pain in his rear end as well.
His wife says, “I see you celebrated a bit too hard last night after you promised not to.”
“Why, how could you assume such a thing?” asks O’Toole.
She replies, “Well, it could be the front door left wide open. And the shattered glass all over the carpet might be a clue. Or it could be all the blood trailing from the hallway into the bathroom and bedroom. But the biggest clue is the 27 bandages stuck all over the mirror in the hall.”
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