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Posted by Richard Bonine (+15285) 26 days ago
A farmer named Patrick lived alone in the Irish countryside with his pet dog. The dog finally died, and Patrick went to the parish priest, saying, "Father, my dog died. Could you possibly say Mass for the poor creature?"

Father Murphy told the farmer, "No, we can't have services for an animal in the church, but I'll tell you what, there's a new denomination down the road, and no telling what they believe in, but maybe they'll do something for the animal."

Patrick said, "I'll go right now. By the way, do you think € 5,000 is enough to donate to the service?"

Father Murphy exclaimed, “Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus! Why didn’t ya tell me the dog was Catholic?”
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Posted by Richard Bonine (+15285) 21 days ago
Murphy, a furniture dealer from Dublin, decided to expand the line of furniture in his store, so he decided to go to Paris to see what he could find. After arriving in Paris, he visited with some manufacturers and selected a line that he thought would sell well back home. To celebrate the new acquisition, he decided to visit a small bistro and have a glass of wine.

As he sat enjoying his wine, he noticed that the small place was quite crowded, and that the other chair at his table was the only vacant seat in the house. Before long, a very beautiful young Parisian girl came to his table, asked him something in French (which Murphy could not understand), so he motioned to the vacant chair and invited her to sit down. He tried to speak to her in English, but she did not speak his language. After a couple of minutes of trying to communicate with her, he took a napkin, drew a picture of a wine glass, and showed it to her. She nodded, so he ordered a glass of wine for her.

After sitting together at the table for a while, he took another napkin, and drew a picture of a plate with food on it, and she nodded. They left the bistro and found a quiet cafe that featured a small group playing romantic music. They ordered dinner, after which he took another napkin and drew a picture of couple dancing. She nodded, and they got up to dance. They danced until the cafe closed and the band packed up.

Back at their table, the young lady took a napkin and drew a picture of a four-poster bed. To this day, Murphy has no idea how she figured out he was in the furniture business.
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Posted by Richard Bonine (+15285) 8 days ago
Bingo Callers have pride in their work. Who knew? I didn't - that is until I met Gérard Leahey, Bingo Caller.

He started this career innocently enough, when called upon in grade school to call the numbers in the bingo based game that is supposed to help kids with math. The teacher, who would usually call the numbers, had a sore throat. Gérard found that he could be charmingly entertaining while calling, without disrupting the flow of the game.

Of course this was long forgotten after high school. He enrolled in an art history in college. While attending he chanced to be asked to help out at a charity fund raiser. The fund raiser, you guessed it, was a bingo and he provided the service of caller. He easily found his pace and it was generally agreed he was the best caller the regulars had ever heard. One octogenarian suggested he work weekends at the usual bingo hall she frequented.

It turns out that good Bingo Callers are a sought after commodity. Your fair sized bingo halls pay a good buck for "talent." That - plus tips - and Gérard stumbled into a job that he thought at first would be merely jingle change. These weekends he would develop his timing, his patter, his clever tagline commentary "clickety-click, sixty-six" and the like. The proprietor asked him to work full time. Art history classes became history.

After several long years Gérard became somewhat of a celebrity - at least in the small town in which he worked. He had stopped working weekends long ago in favour of the weekdays and some evenings which featured younger, more interactive crowds. Gérard was happy.

So it is not without a bit of irony that what lead to Gérard's later difficulties occurred at a charity function at the very venue where his career was launched (albeit for a different charity). It was, however, a senior's function. While Gérard felt obliged to help out, he did not look forward it.

And sure enough, his trademark quick style and his banter was met with shouts of, "Slow down, sonny!" and "Could you repeat that!" He was off his game. He was restless and bored. Between each numbers he had to wait, and wait, and wait while watching a sea of bobbing blue haired heads wave through the room and the soft mooud, mooud of bingo dabbers. To keep his sanity between numbers he would fidget. He called one number, then grab the next (as was his custom) and while waiting to call the number in his hand he would toss the ball into the air and catch it in his shirt pocket... catch it behind his back... catch it in his teeth.

It was with this last stunt that it happened. Just as he caught the ball in his teeth, a little old lady in the table just in front of him yelled, "BINGO!" with a force that startled him. He ulped, and swallowed the ball he had just deftly caught. With all the attention on the winner, no one had noticed. Gérard was not about to let such an incident affect his reputation, so he told no one. He confirmed the winner, finished his duties for the evening, collected his pay then quietly left.

But later that evening it started. The nausea. The bloated feeling in his gut. The discomfort while going to the bathroom. It was too much. The next day he was a wreck.

So he went to the emergency room. Not trusting doctor/patient confidentiality, Gérard described his symptoms but did not explain the incident. He was too embarassed, to boot. The puzzled doctor took X-Rays. After examining them he said to Gérard, "You have the strangest tumour I've ever seen. But don't worry. It's benign.
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Posted by Richard Bonine (+15285) 4 days ago
Paddy and his wife were 85 years old and had been married for sixty years. Though they were far from rich, they managed to get by because they watched their pennies. Though not young, they were both in very good health, largely due to the wife’s insistence on healthy foods and exercise for the last decade.

One day, their good health didn’t help when they went on a rare vacation and their plane crashed, sending them off to Heaven. They reached the pearly gates, and St Peter escorted them inside.

He took them to a beautiful mansion, furnished in gold and fine silks, with a fully stocked kitchen and a waterfall in the master bath. A maid could be seen hanging their favourite clothes in the closet. They gasped in astonishment when he said, "Welcome to Heaven this will be your home now".

Paddy asked Peter how much all this was going to cost. "Why, nothing"... Peter replied, "remember, this is your reward in Heaven".

The old man looked out the window and right there he saw a championship golf course, finer and more beautiful than any ever built on Earth.

"What are the greens fees", grumbled old Paddy.

"This is heaven"... St Peter replied. "You can play for free, every day"

Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with every imaginable cuisine laid out before them, from seafood to steaks to exotic deserts, free flowing beverages. "Don’t even ask" said St. Peter to Paddy.

This is Heaven, it is all free for you to enjoy"... The old man looked around and glanced nervously at his wife.

"Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol foods and the decaffeinated tea"? he asked. "That’s the best part", St. Peter replied,"You can eat and drink as much as you like of whatever you like and you will never get fat or sick. This is Heaven".The old man pushed, "No gym to work out at"?

"Not unless you want to" was the answer. "No testing my sugar or blood pressure or"... "Never again. All you do here is enjoy yourself".

.

.

.

The old man glared at his wife and said, "You and your bran Flakes. We could have been here ten years ago".
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