Paddy slips
Paddy was staggering home with a bottle of whisky in his back pocket when he slipped and fell heavily. Struggling to his feet, he felt something wet running down his leg.
"Please, God," he implored, "let it be blood!"
Long Life
Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Shamus, were stumbling home from the pub late one night and found themselves on the road which led past the old graveyard.
"Come have a look over here," said Paddy, "it's Michael O'Grady's grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87."
"That's nothing", said Sean, "here's one named Patrick O'Tool, it says here that he was 95 when he died."
Just then, Shamus yelled out, "Hey, here's a fella that got to be 145 years old!"
"What was his name?" asked Paddy.
Shamus lit a match to see what else was written on the stone marker, and exclaimed, "Miles, from Dublin."
Obituary
Shamus opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend Mick.
"Did you see the paper?" asked Shamus. "They say I died!!"
"Yes, I saw it!" replied Mick. "Where are you callin' from?"
Mistaken identity
Two Irishmen 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, "well 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 another...it was neither of us."
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