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Pun Alley 3-16-2012

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Turning green for St. Patrick's Day

By Dick Frank

Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, a holiday first celebrated in 1737 by Irish immigrants in Boston. Now almost everyone celebrates by wearing green, being honorary Irish, drinking green beer, and eating corned beef and cabbage.
The Irish can be proud; going green the year around has now become a worldwide objective. In honor of St. Patty, Pun Alley gets painted green and has some Irish fun.

Taken to the cleaners
Patrick O’Reilly was lucky. Since the day he had found a four-leaf clover, everything good seemed to come his way. He had married a wonderful woman and later, was the father of beautiful twins. At work he had been promoted and had received a substantial raise. Patty, certain his good fortune was due to his four-leaf clover, always carried the clover in his suit pocket.
One morning, Patty searched and could not find the clover. He recalled it was in his suit that he had left at the cleaners. When he picked it up, the clover was still in one piece but flattened from the dry cleaning.
After that Patty’s fortunes changed. The twins developed measles when his boss and the boss’s wife visited for dinner. He had a flat tire on his way to an important meeting and lost his job. So many bad things happened to him, he visited the parish priest to ask for advice.
“This certainly was to be expected,” the priest said. “You should have known. One should never press one’s luck.”

Hangover
Two Irish men, Paddy and Murphy were walking down a country road, when they observed a man hanging over a bridge with another mans legs in his grasp. The other man shouted up “now, now” to his friend who promptly pulled him up. To Paddy and Murphy’s astonishment the man had a large fish in his arms. Paddy and Murphy decided to give this plan a try, so they walked on to the next bridge where Paddy dangled Murphy over the bridge. After five minutes Murphy started to scream up, “Paddy, Paddy, pull me up.”
Paddy asked, “Have you got a fish?”
“No, there’s a bloody train coming.”

Crossway
Gallagher was in Boston and waiting patiently while watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the traffic and shouted, “Okay pedestrians.” Then he allowed the traffic to pass. He did this several times, and Gallagher was still standing on the sidewalk. After the cop shouted “Pedestrians” for the tenth time, Gallagher approached him and said, “Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?”

Leprechaun tales
“Hey, Paudge, do I hear you spitting in the vase on the mantelpiece?”
“No, Brigid, but I’m getting closer all the time.”
“Ma, there’s a strange man at the door.”
“Has he got a bill?”
“No, Ma, just an ordinary nose.”
“Murphy, why don’t you give up the drinking, smoking and carousing?” said Mrs. O’Leary
“It’s too late,” replied Murphy.
“It’s never too late,” assured the virtuous Mrs. O’Leary.
“Well, there’s no rush then,” smiled Murphy.
“Mrs. O’Shaughnessy, could you give me anything for a home for alcoholics?”
“Come back at teatime. My husband will be in then.”
Darragh was boasting of his grandfather, “He lived for 94 years and never once used glasses.”
Phelim replied, “I always said it was healthier to drink from the bottle.”
Two Irishmen, Pat and Murphy, saw a sign saying “Tree Fellers” wanted.
Murphy said to Pat, said, “If only Seamus had been with us we’d have got that job.”

Dig it
An aging man lived alone in Ireland. His only son was in prison, and he didn’t know anyone who would spade up his potato garden. The old man wrote to his son about it, and received this reply, “For heavens sake, don’t dig up that garden, that’s where I buried the guns!”
Soon a dozen British soldiers showed up and dug up the entire garden, but didn’t find any guns. Confused, the man wrote to his son telling him what happened and asking him what to do next.
His son’s reply was, “Just plant your potatoes.”

How’s That?
A Belfast newspaper once reported the launching of an aircraft carrier and reported, “The Duchess smashed the bottle against the bow and with the applause of the crowd she slid on her greasy bottom into the sea.”
Dick and his wife Jane live in Oak Run.