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Leprechauns left a pot of puns in the Alley

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By Dick Frank

Irish immigrants brought the observance of St. Patrick’s Day to the United States in 1737. Today’s most well-known celebration is the parade in New York City where the route is painted with a green line to guide the marchers.

Elsewhere almost everyone celebrates by wearing green, being honorary Irish, drinking green beer, and eating corned beef and cabbage. In honor of St. Patrick’s Day on this coming Tuesday, Pun Alley is decked out in green and some colorful Irish stories.

Real Green

A con artist, posing as a travel agent, offered trips to the homeland in Ireland to a number of unsuspecting clients. After securing sizable down payments, the con artist disappeared.

When the scam was discovered, the story ran in the local papers under the headline, “Tour Allure a Lie.”

Current Events

Paddy was walking through a graveyard when he came across a headstone with the inscription “Here lies a politician and an honest man.”

“Faith now,” exclaimed Paddy, “I wonder how they got the two of them in one grave.”

It’s All Relative

Padraic Flaherty came home drunk every evening around 10. Now the missus was never too happy about it, either. So one night she hid in the cemetery and figured to scare the wits out of him.

As poor Pat wandered by, up from behind a tombstone she jumped in a red devil costume screaming, “Padraic Sean Flaherty, sure and ya’ don’t give up you’re drinkin’ and it’s to hell I’ll take ye.”

Pat, undaunted, staggered back and demanded, “Who are you?”

The Missus replied, “I’m the divil ya’ damned old fool.”

Padraic answered, “Glad to meet you sir, I’m married to yer sister.”

Leprechaun Tales

The first Irish National Steeplechase was finally abandoned. Not one horse could get a decent footing on the cathedral roof.

The cross-eyed Irish teacher resigned because she had no control over her pupils.

The Irish terrorist attempted to blow up a bus, but he burned his lips on the exhaust pipe.

To a leprechaun a happy man wearing green is known as a jolly green giant.

O’Toule was rather sad after viewing the body of a dead atheist. “There he was. All dressed up and no place to go.”

The Irish water polo team drowned four horses during the first chukka.

People wear shamrocks on St. Patrick’s Day because real rocks are too heavy.

O’Malley broke his ankle when he fell into the sink while tap dancing.

Firm Footing

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. “I’m the strongest man in Erin, and I’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’ I can’t do it.

Barty replied, “Mick, d’ye think it will help if I pull me feet out of the stirrups?”

A Mouthful

She followed her husband to the local pub. “How can you come here,” she said, taking a sip of his pint of Guinness, “and drink that awful stuff?”

“Now!” he cried, “And you always said I was out enjoying meself.”

Last Words

In a local pub Murphy, O’Brien, and Cassey discussed the words they would like to hear spoken over their coffins at their wakes.

Casey said, “I would like them to say, ‘He was a wonderful family man – he always supported his wife and kids, and they never wanted for anything.’”

O’ Brien said, “That’s lovely Casey, but I would like to hear them say, ‘He was a great man in the community – he undertook a lot of projects to make his community a better place.’”

Murphy said, “That’s very nice, O’Brien. But I would like to hear them say, ‘Look! He’s moving!’”

It’s Curtains

Pat and Mike were very good friends and Pat came over to Mike’s house to visit. When he entered the home, Mike wasn’t there. Mike’s wife was holding their baby and trying to put up curtains at the same time.

She said, “Pat, I’m glad you came, would you mind holding the baby while I finish the curtains?”

A few minutes later, Pat came in and said to Mike, “How ya doin Mike?”

Mike replied, “I’m holding my own.” That’s when the battle started.

There will be no battle when you send your puns and jokes to dickjfrank@yahoo.com or to the Citizen by snail mail. Dick and Jane live in Oak Run.