DEEKAYPEE8569
Well-Known Member
Your humor pill for the day...for all my friends of Irish heritage...and those who just like a good Irish joke...☺
Paddy had been drinking at his local pub most of the night.
Mick, the bartender says, ‘You’ll not be drinking anymore tonight, Paddy’.
Paddy replies, ‘OK Mick, I’ll be on my way then’. Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face.
‘Dang’ he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face, ‘oh bloody shambles!’
He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and some fresh air he’ll be fine.
He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto the sidewalk and falls flat on his face. ‘Be-Jesus… I’m in bloody trouble,’ he says.
He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls himself up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside.
He takes a look up the stairs and says ‘No bloody way....’
He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says ‘I can make it to the bed’. He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face. He says ‘dang it’ and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says, ‘Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night ?’
Paddy says, ‘I did, Jess. I was bloody plastered. But how did you know?’
‘Mick phoned .. . . You left your wheelchair at the pub.’
Paddy had been drinking at his local pub most of the night.
Mick, the bartender says, ‘You’ll not be drinking anymore tonight, Paddy’.
Paddy replies, ‘OK Mick, I’ll be on my way then’. Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face.
‘Dang’ he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face, ‘oh bloody shambles!’
He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and some fresh air he’ll be fine.
He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto the sidewalk and falls flat on his face. ‘Be-Jesus… I’m in bloody trouble,’ he says.
He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls himself up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside.
He takes a look up the stairs and says ‘No bloody way....’
He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says ‘I can make it to the bed’. He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face. He says ‘dang it’ and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says, ‘Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night ?’
Paddy says, ‘I did, Jess. I was bloody plastered. But how did you know?’
‘Mick phoned .. . . You left your wheelchair at the pub.’
