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McQuillan walked into a bar and ordered martini after martini, each time removing the olives and placing them in a jar. When the jar was filled with olives and all the drinks consumed, he started to leave.

'S'cuse me,' said a customer, who was puzzled over what McQuillan had done. 'What was that all about?'

'Nothing,' he replied, 'my wife just sent me out for a jar of olives.'
Like the warmth of the sun
And the light of the day,
May the luck of the Irish
shine bright on your way.
Barty was trapped in a bog and seemed a goner when Big Mick O'Reilly wandered by.

'Help!' Barty shouted, 'Oi'm sinkin'!'

Don't worry,' assured Mick. 'Next to the Strong Muldoon, Oi'm the strongest man in Erin, and Oi'll pull ye right out o' there.'

Mick leaned out and grabbed Barty's hand and pulled and pulled to no avail.

After two more unsuccessful attempts, Mick said to Barty, 'Shure, an' Oi can't do it. The Strong Muldoon could do it alone, mebbe, but Oi'll have to get some help.'

As Mick was leaving, Barty called 'Mick! Mick!

D'ye think it will help if Oi pull me feet out of the stirrups?
May your pockets be heavy-
Your heart be light
And may good luck pursue you
Each morning and night
Jimy-Joe went to a pet shop and asked how many budgies were in stock. 'We have 99' replied the shop owner 'Give us the lot' said the Jimmy-Joe, paid for them and left. He went to a tailors shop and had 99 pockets sewn into a jacket, put a budgie in each pocket, went up to the Post Office Tower and jumped off.

He hit the ground with an almighty smack and lay there groaning until a passer-by came and asked him what had happened. 'I don't know sur' he replied 'but that's the last time I try that budgie jumping'
May the good saints protect you
And bless you today
And may troubles ignore you
Each step of the way
Mick and Paddy were walking home after a night on the beer when a severed head rolled along the ground.
Mick picked it up to his face and said to Paddy 'Jez, that look like Sean' to which Paddy replied 'No Sean was taller than that'
Grant me a sense of humor, Lord,
the saving grace to see a joke,
To win some happiness from life,
And pass it on to other folks.
It was Paddy and Seamus giving the motorcycle a ride on a brisk autumn day. After a wee bit, Paddy who was sitt'n behind Seamus on the bike began to holler ...'Seamus ... Seamus ... the wind is cutt'n me chest out!'

'Well, Paddy my lad,' said Seamus, 'why don't you take your jacket off and turn it from front to back ... that'll block the wind for you.'

So Paddy took Seamus' advice and turned his jacket from front to back and got back on the bike and the two of them were off down the road again. After a bit, Seamus turned to talk to Paddy and was horrified to see that Paddy was not there. Seamus immediately turned the bike around and retraced their route. When after a short time he came to a turn and saw a bunch of farmers standing around Paddy who was sitting on the ground.

'T'anks be to heaven, is he alright?' Seamus hailed to the farmers.
'Well,' said one of the farmers, ' he was alright when we found him here .. but since we turned his head back to front .. he hasn't said a word since!'
May joy and peace surround you,
Contentment latch your door,
And happiness be with you now
And bless you evermore.
Pat and Jimmy-Joe met and one said to the other,
'Have ye seen Mulligan lately,Pat?'
Pat said, 'Well, I have and I haven't.'
His friend asked, 'Shure, and what d'ye mean by that?'
Pat said, 'It's like this, y'see...I saw a chap who I thought was Mulligan, and he saw a chap that he thought was me. And when we got up to one was neither of us.'
May brooks and trees and singing hills
Join in the chorus too,
And every gentle wind that blows
Send happiness to you.
Jimmy-Joe finds a Genie lamp and rubs it. Out comes the Genie and asks 'Master you have released me from the lamp and I grant you three wishes, what would you like'

Jimmy-Joe scratches his head, then answers 'A bottle of Guinness that never gets empty. 'Granted master' retorted the Genie and produced the bottle. Jimmy-Joe was delighted and got drunk on this one magic Guiness bottle for weeks then he remembered that he had two other wishes. He rubbed the lamp again and the Genie appeared. 'Yes master, you have two more wishes, what would you like?' 'You know that magic, never ending Guinness bottle' he asks the Genies. 'Well, for my final two wishes, I'd like another two of them'
These things, I warmly wish for you-
Someone to love,
Some work to do,
A bit of o' sun
A bit o' cheer
And a guardian angel
Always near.
Joey-Jim was tooling along the road one fine day when the local policeman, a friend of his, pulled him over. 'What's wrong, Seamus?' Joey-Jim asked. 'Well didn't ya know, Joey-Jim, that your wife fell out of the car about five miles back?' said Seamus. 'Ah, praise the Almighty!' he replied with relief. 'I thought I'd gone deaf!' Christ be with me, Christ be within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger
Christ in hearts of all that love me
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

Barty and Dunny met in a pub and discussed the illness of a friend named Hogan.
'Poor Micheal Hogan! Faith, I'm afraid he's goin' to die.'
'Shure, an' why would he be dyin'?' asked the other.
'Ah, he's gotten so thin. You're thin enough, and I'm thin -- but by my soul, Micheal Hogan is thinner than both of us put together.'
Hills as green as emeralds
Cover the countryside
Lakes as blue as sapphires-
And Ireland's special pride
And rivers that shine like silver
Make Ireland look so fair-
But the friendliness of her people
Is the richest treasure there.
Jimmy-Joe acquired an injury whilst tap dancing? He broke his ankle when he fell into the sink. Deep peace of the running waves to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the smiling stars to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the watching shepherds to you.
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you
A cop pulls up Barty and Joey-Jim, both the worse for drink, and says to the first,

'What's your name and address?'

'I'm Barty O'Day, of no fixed address.'

The cop turns to the second drunk, and asks the same question.

'I'm Joey-Jim O'Flaherty, and I live in the flat above Barty.'
May good luck be your friend
In whatever you do
And may trouble be always
A stranger to you.
As soon as she had finished parochial school, a bright young girl named Lena shook the dust of Ireland off her shoes and made her way to New York where before long, she became a successful performer in show business.

Eventually she returned to her home town for a visit and on a Saturday night went to confession in the church which she had always attended as a child. In the confessional Father Sullivan recognized her and began asking her about her work. She explained that she was an acrobatic dancer, and he wanted to know what that meant.

She said she would be happy to show him the kind of thing she did on stage.

She stepped out of the confessional and within sight of Father Sullivan, she went into a series of cartwheels, leaping splits, handsprings and backflips. Kneeling near the confessional, waiting their turn, were two middle-aged ladies. They witnessed Lena's acrobatics with wide eyes, and one said to the other:

'Will you just look at the penance Father Sullivan is givin' out this night, and me without me bloomers on!'

May your home be filled with laughter
May your pockets be filled with gold
And may you have all the happiness
Your Irish heart can hold.
Pat and Mick landed themselves a job at a sawmill. Just before morning tea Pat yelled: 'Mick! I lost me finger!'
'Have you now?' says Mick. 'And how did you do it?'
'I just touched this big spinning thing here like thi...
Darn! There goes another one!'
May your blessings outnumber
The Shamrocks that grow
And may trouble avoid you
Wherever you go.
Sean was fishing and it started to rain,
so he moved under the bridge for shelter.
His pal McGinty saw him and called,
'Sean, me boy, are ye afeared of a few spots o' rain, now?'
Sean replied, 'I'm not...the fish come here fer shelter.'

May you be half an hour in Heaven
Before the Devil knows you're dead.

An Irishman is a man who?

May not believe there is a God,
but is darn sure of the infallibility of the Pope...
Won't eat meat on Friday,
but will drink Jameson for breakfast.....
Has great respect for the truth,
he uses in emergencies...
Sees things not as they are
but the way they never will be.....
Cries at sad movies,
but cheers in battle....
Hates the English,
but reserves his cruelty for countryman....
Gets more Irish the further he gets from Ireland.....
Believes in civil rights,
but not in his neighborhood...
Believes to forgive is divine,
therefore doesn't exercise it himself....
Loves religion for its own sake,
but also because it makes it so
inconvenient for his neighbors....
Scorns money,
but worships those who have it...
Considers any Irishman who
achieves success to be a traitor...

You've blessed me with friends
and laughter and fun
With rain that's as soft
as the light from the sun-
You've blessed me with the stars
to brighten each night
You've give me help
to know wrong from right
You've give me so much
please, Lord give me too
A heart that is always
Grateful to you.
Jimmy-Joe's attempt on Mount Everest was a valiant effort, but it failed:

He ran out of scaffolding.
The rose and the shamrock
Will always remind me
Of lanes in the hills
That I left far behind me.

Scorcher Murphy was selling his house, and put the matter in an agent's hands. The agent wrote up a sales blurb for the house that made wonderful reading. After Murphy read it, he turned to the agent and asked,

'Have I got all ye say there?'

The agent said, 'Certainly ye have...Why d'ye ask?'

Replied Murphy, 'Cancel the sale...'tis too good to part with.'
May the saint protect ye-
An' sorrow neglect ye,
An' bad luck to the one
That doesn't respect ye
t' all that belong to ye,
An long life t' yer honor-
That's the end of my song t' ye!
'Well, Mrs. O'Connor, so you want a divorce?' the solicitor questioned his client.

'Tell me about it. Do you have a grudge?'

'Oh, no,' replied Mrs. O'Connor. 'Shure now, we have a carport.'

The solicitor tried again. 'Well, does the man beat you up?'

'No, no,' said Mrs. O'Connor, looking puzzled. 'Oi'm always first out of bed.'

Still hopeful, the solicitor tried once again.

'What I'm trying to find out are what grounds you have.'

'Bless ye, sor. We live in a flat -- not even a window box, let alone grounds.'

'Mrs. O'Connor,' the solicitor said in considerable exasperation, 'you need a reason that the court can consider.

What is the reason for you seeking this divorce?'

'Ah, well now,' said the lady,

'Shure it's because the man can't hold an intelligent conversation.'
When the first light of sun- Bless you When the long day is done- Bless you In your smiles and your tears- Bless you Through each day of your years- Bless you.
Lucky stars above you, Sunshine on your way, Many friends to love you, Joy in work and play- Laughter to outweigh each care, In your heart a song- And gladness waiting everywhere All your whole life long!
Ireland It's the one place on earth That Heaven has kissed With melody, mirth And meadow and mist.
May the lilt of Irish laughter Lighten every load, May the mist of Irish magic Shorten every road, May you taste the sweetest pleasures That fortune ere bestowed, And may all your friends remember. All the favors you are owed.
May you always have these blessings A soft breeze when summer comes- A warm fireside in winter- And always- the warm, soft smile of a friend.
May the roads rise to meet you. May the wind be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; The rain fall soft upon your fields And, until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
May you have all the happiness And luck that life can hold- And at the end of your rainbows May you find a pot of gold.
ERIN Where the wind has a sound like a sweet song, And anyone can hum it, And the heather grows upon the hills And shamrocks not far from it.
From the great Gales of Ireland Are the men that God made mad, for all their wars are merry And all their songs are sad.
A special Irish blessing From the heart of a friend- 'May good fortune be yours, May your joys never end.'
May the love and protection Saint Patrick can give Be yours in abundance As long as you live.
May good luck be with you Wherever you go , And your blessing outnumber The shamrocks that grow.
Whenever I dream, It seems I dream Of Erin's rolling hills- Of all its lovely, shimmery lakes And little babbling rills- I hear a colleen's lilting laugh Across a meadow fair And in my dreams its almost seems To me that I am there- O, Ireland! O', Ireland! We're Never far apart For you and all your beauty Fill my mind and touch my heart.
Take me home to Shamrock Hill The glorious place of my birth Where the glens are green and the heather grows- ‘Tis the prettiest place on earth- The wind blows free and the air is fresh And I still hear a rippling rill. My heart is sad, but it could be glad- Take me home to Shamrock Hill.
How sweetly lies old Ireland Emerald green beyond the foam, Awakening sweet memories Calling the heart back home
May your troubles be less And your blessing be more And nothing but happiness Come through your door
The Harp that once through Tara's hills The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled So sleep the pride of former days, So Glory's thrill is o'er- And the hearts that once Beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
Whenever there is happiness Hope you'll be there too, Wherever there are friendly smiles Hope they'll smile on you, Whenever there is sunshine, Hope it shine especially For you to make each day for you As bright as it can be.
May this home and all therein
be blessed with God's love
May the grace of God's protection
And His great love abide
Within your home-within the hearts
Of all who dwell inside.




by Michael Green
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