Just after WWII, a sergeant in the one of the Highland regiments was comining up to retirement so he requested an interview with the Colonel. "Request permission to take my rifle with me when I retire." "Why?" Asked the Colonel. "Well Sir, I've carried it on sentry, it went with me to France in '39, and got me through Dunkirk. It went back with me on D-Day, and to VE-Day. And now I'm retiring. I'd like it as a souvenir." The Colonel promised to look into the matter and two weeks later, the Sergeant was up in front of the Colonel again, to be told that, on payment of a small sum and acquiring a firearms licence his request would be granted. He duly paid up, sucessfully applied for his licence and shortly after that, retired, the owner of a former service rifle. Two days after his retirement, the sergeant's wife saw him building a small plinth right in the centre of their garden, he carefully built a pair of cradles in the top of the plinth, reverently placed the rifle in the cradle, carefully cemented it into place, stepped back and said, "Now you bastard...RUST !"

Paddy and Mick were nailing up the side of a wooden house.
Mick noticed that Paddy was examining the nails and throwing away every second and third.
"What's wrong with the nails?" he asked.
"Sure, the heads are at the wrong end."
"You fool. Can't you see they are for the other side of the house?!"

An Irishman was walking through the cemetary when he came upon a headstone inscribed: 'Here lies a politician and an honest man.'
"Boys-a-dear,' he said, 'I wonder how they got the two of them in the one grave?"

Sean O'Brien had been hailed the most intelligent Irish man for three years running. It was suggested by the Irish Mensa Board that he enter into the English Mastermind Championships. He did and won a place.
On the evening of the competition, Sean enters from the crowd and placed himself on the leather seat. The lights dimmed and a spotlight pointed to his face.
The MC said, "Sean, what subject are you studying?" Sean responded, "Irish History". "Very well", said Magnus. "Your first question:"
"In what year did the Easter Rising take place?'"
Sean responded..."Pass."
"Very well.", said the MC, "Who was the leader of the Easter Rising?",
Sean responded..."Pass."
"I see", said the MC, "How long did the Easter Rising last?"
Sean responded..."Pass."
Immediately, a voice shouts from the crowd, "Good man Sean...! Tell the English nothing!"

How to tell a proper joke
"There was this Irish fellow and ..."
"Now wait just a minute. Why must it always be an Irishman?!"
"OK, OK. There was this Chinese fellow, and he was at the O'Reilly wake...."

An Italian, a Scotsman, and a Chinese fellow are hired at a construction site. The foreman points out a huge pile of sand and says to the Italian guy, "You're in charge of sweeping." To the Scotsman he says, "You're in charge of shoveling." And to the Chinese guy, "You're in charge of supplies."
He then says, "Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you fellows to make a big dent in that pile of sand."
The foreman goes away for a couple hours and when he returns, the pile of sand is untouched. He asks the Italian, "Why didn't you sweep any of it?"
The Italian replies, "I no hava no broom. You saida to the Chinese-a fella that he awasa ina charge ofa de supplies, but he hasa disappeared, and I no coulda finda him nowhere."
Then the foreman turns to the Scotsman and says, "And you... I thought I told you to shovel this pile."
The Scotsman answered, "Aye, ye did lad; boot ah couldnay get meself a shoovel! Ye left th' Chinese laddie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldnay fin' him either."
The foreman is really angry now and storms off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese guy.
Just then, the Chinese guy leaps out from behind the pile of sand and yells, "SUPPLIES!"

Q: How does one address a piper dressed in an off-the-rack suit?
A: "Will the defendant please rise?"

Q: How can you tell that the piper is on a level stage?
A: He drools from both sides of his mouth.

Mick obtained a job with the Highway Commission, painting stripes down the middle of the highway. The first day on the job, he painted 5 miles of stripes, and his supervisor was mighty pleased.
The second day on the job, he painted only about a mile and a half, and the third day, he painted less than a mile. The boss asked, "What's wrong, Mick?"
Mick said, "I think I'm getting too far away from the paint can."

Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose woman."
The priest asks, "Is that you, Tommy Shaughnessy?"
"Yes, Father, it is."
"Who was it?"
"Sure and I can't be tellin' you, Father. I don't want to ruin her reputation."
"Was it Patricia Kelly?"
"I'll never tell."
"Was it Liz Shannon?"
"I'm sorry, but I'll not name her."
"Was it Moira O'Rork?"
"My lips are sealed."
"Was it Fiona McDonald, then?" "Please, Father, I cannot tell you."
The priest sighs in frustration. "You're a steadfast lad. But you've sinned, and you must atone. Be off with you now."
Tommy walks back to his pew. His friend Sean slides over and whispers, "What'd you get?"
"Four good leads," says Tommy.

An English doctor, being shown around a Scottish hospital, is taken into a ward with a number of patients who show no visible signs of injury.
He goes to examine the first man he sees, and the man proclaims" "Fair fa' yer sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race!"
The Englishman, somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient, who immediately launches into: "Some hae meat, and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit."
The next patient sits up and declaims: "Wee sleekit cow'rin tim'rous beastie, O what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi' bickering brattle. I wad be laith to run and chase thee, wi' murdering prattle!"
Well, says the Englishman to his Scottish colleague. "I see you saved the psychiatric ward for last."
"Nay, nay." the Scottish physician corrects him: "This is the Serious Burns Unit!"

Father O'Malley got up one fine spring day and walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside and noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn. He promptly called the local police station. The conversation went like this:
"Top o' the day to ye. This is Sergeant Flaherty. How might I help ye?"
"And the rest of the day te yerself. This is Father O'Malley at St. Brigid's. There's a jackass lying dead in me front lawn. Would ye be after sending a couple o' yer lads to take care of the matter?"
Sergeant. Flaherty considered himself to be quite a wit and the rest of the conversation proceeded:
"Well now father, it was always my impression that you people took care of last rites."
There was dead silence on the line for a moment and then Father O'Malley replied:
"Aye, that's certainly true, but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin!"

A Scot goes into a public house and orders seven shots of whisky and a pint chaser. The bartender lines up seven shots and goes to get the beer. When he comes back with the beer only moments later, all seven shots were gone.
The bartender says, "I say, you certainly drank those fast."
The Scot explains, "You'd drink fast too if you had what I have, lad."
The bartender inquires, "And just what do you have?"
The Scot reaches into his pocket and says, "50 pence."

A young Scottish lad and lass were sitting on a low stone wall, holding hands, gazing out over the loch. For several minutes they sat silently, then finally the girl looked at the boy and said, "A penny for your thoughts, Angus."
"Well, uh, I was thinkin'...perhaps it's aboot time for a wee kiss." The girl blushed, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then he blushed. The two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.
Minutes passed, then the girl spoke again. "Another penny for your thoughts, Angus." "Well, uh I was thinkin'...perhaps its noo aboot time for a wee cuddle." The girl blushed, then leaned over and cuddled him for a few seconds. Then he blushed. Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch. After a while, she again said, "Another penny for your thoughts, Angus."
"Well, uh I was thinkin'...perhaps its aboot time you let me pewt ma hand on yer leg." The girl blushed, then took his hand and put it on her knee. Then he blushed. Then the two turned once again to gaze out over the loch before the girl spoke again.
"Another penny for your thoughts, Angus." The young man glanced down with a furled brow. "Well, noo," he said, "My thoughts are a wee bit more serious this time."
"Really?" said the lass in a whisper, filled with anticipation.
"Aye," said the lad, nodding. The girl looked away in shyness, began to blush, and bit her lip in anticipation of the ultimate request.
And he said, "Dinna ye think it's aboot time ye paid me the first three pennies?"

Sandy was sitting at the bar drinking double whiskies in one gulp as fast as the barman could put them in front of him. He eventually explained that it was the only way he could drink them after a terrible accident. "What sort of accident?" asked the barman. "Terrible," said Sandy. "I knocked one over with my elbow."

An inexperienced piper took time off from his playing to speak to a guest:
"It's my understanding you enjoy the music of the pipes?"
"Indeed I do", replied the guest, "but never mind, keep on playing."

Q: What's the difference between a wedding and wake in Ireland?
A: One less drunk at the wake.

Being a financially prudent man, Mr. MacLennan was rather upset when he accidentally let a 50p coin fall into the public toilet.
"What shall I do?" he wondered. "Is it worth delving in there for 50p?" Then he had a brainwave. Reaching into his pocket, he found another 50p coin and dropped it in too.
"A pound's another matter entirely," he thought, rolling up his sleeve.

At the wake held for a notorious troublemaker, a sudden silence fell. To break it, someone said:
"Who can say something good about old Seamus?"
The silence deepened. Then at last one of the mourners spoke:
"His brother was worse."

An Irishman arrived at the Atlanta Airport and wandered pitifully around the terminal with tears streaming down his cheeks.
A concerned airline employee asked him if he was already homesick.
"No," replied the Irishman. "I've lost all me luggage!"
"How'd that happen?"
"The cork fell out!" cried the Irishman.

"How much does it cost to have an obituary printed?" asked the caller.
"It's two pounds per word, madam" said the editor.
"Fine," said the women. Get a pencil & some paper then take this down: MacDonnell...Dead"
The reporter waited for the women to go on, "That's it?" he asked.
"That's it," she said.
"I'm sorry, I should have told you madam, and there's a five word minimum."
"Yes, you should have young man," retorted the woman. "Let me think a moment. OK, I have it. Take this down: "MacDonnell dead. Bagpipes for sale."

A married Scottish man returned home from some Highland Games with a set of very expensive bagpipes. He couldn't wait to show them to his wife and point out all the features that made them worth the extravagent price he paid. She listened patiently, but he could see that she was getting angrier and angrier the more he extolled their features.
The wife tore into him, "You stupid, stupid man! What a total waste of money! You don't even play the pipes!"
He replied, "My dear, do I complain when you buy a brassiere?"

A Scotsman goes to the dentist and asks how much it is for an extraction...
"£110 for an extraction sir" was the dentist's reply.
"Och! Huv ye nay got unythin cheaper?", replies the Scotsman a bit agitated.
"That's the normal charge for an extraction sir", said the dentist.
"What aboot if ye didnae use uny anaesthetic?", asked the Scotsman hopefully.
"Well it's highly unusual sir, but if that's what you want, I suppose I can do it for £85", replied the dentist.
"Hmmm, what aboot if ye used one of ye dentist trainees and still wi' oot anaesthetic?", asked the Scotsman.
"Well it's possible but they are only training and I can't guarantee their level of professionalism, and it'll be a lot more painful, but I suppose in that case we can bring the price down to say £65", said the dentist.
"Och that's still a bit much, how aboot if ye make it a training session and have yer student do the extraction and the other students watchin and learnin'?", asked the Scotsman hopefully.
"Well OK. It'll be good for the students I suppose, I'll charge you only £45 in that case", said the dentist.
"Brilliant, it's a deal!" said the Scotsman. "Can ye book me wife for next Thursday?"

There was this man, Willie. A great piper in his day, he had won both gold medals and several clasps as well as several world championships while playing with one of the top Grade 1 pipe bands in the world for over half a century. It was different now. His memory was bad and he could no longer blow a full sounding set of pipes. Old Willie had settled into a quiet routine of reading the paper, listening to the radio, watching the soaps on TV and occasionally playing his practice chanter, when he could remember a tune.
One day a former piping student arrived for a visit and, after the usual greetings at the door and putting the guest's coat away in the closet, Willie's wife went into the kitchen to make the tea.
Hearing his teacher's daily routine, the guest shook his had sadly and said, "Willie, you should get out once in a while. It is not good to sit here all day."
Willie answered, "We do get out a bit. Only last week we went to a pub and heard some wonderful piping. They have it every Thursday."
"That sounds interesting," his guest said. "I think I'd enjoy a night like that. What pub was it?"
Willie looked thoughtful for a few moments, and his guest realised the old fellow had forgotten the name of the pub. Then Willie's face brightened up and he said, "You know that flower, the one with the thorns, with pretty red petals...?"
"You mean a 'rose'?" his guest replied, trying to help the old man out.
"That's it!," cried Willie and he turned his head over his shoulder and shouted toward the kitchen.
"Rose! What was the name of that pub we were in last Thursday?

At the Mod in Oban, many years ago, three old piping friends met and had a dram together; then the hotel bar closed, so they retired to the room one of them had booked, along with pipes and a bottle of whisky. Unfortunately, there was but one glass in the room, so one of the pipers set out to search for glasses and found two. He was on his way back when the night porter spotted him and said warningly, "I hope you're not going to be doing any loud singing at this time of night." "Och, no," he replied, "We're just going to have a few quiet tunes on the pipes".

Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly telephoned his best friend, Finney.
"Did you see the paper?", asked Gallagher. "They say I died!"
"Yes, I saw it.", replied Finney. "Where are ye callin' from?"

Two Glaswegians, Archie and Jimmy, were sitting in the pub discussing Jimmy's forthcoming wedding.
"Och, it's all goin' pure deid brilliant," said Jimmy. "Ah've got everythin' organised awready... the fluers, the church, the caurs, the reception, the rings, the meenister. Even ma stag night". Archie nodded approvingly.
"I even bought a kilt to be married in.", continued Jimmy.
"A kilt?" exclaims Archie. "That's braw, you'll look pure smairt in that. An' whit's the tartan?", Archie then enquired.
"Och," says Jimmy, "Ah'd imagine she'll be in white."

When a tradesman finishes a task at a house in Scotland, it's an old custom to offer him a wee drink. "Would you like a wee dram?", the lady-of-the-house asked a joiner. "Ah wouldna' say No", he replied.
The lady produced the bottle. "How do you like it, Sandy?" she asked.
He replied: "Half whisky and half water. An' pit in plenty o' water".

Donald, the budding piper, was holding forth in his favorite pub with far more enthusiasm than expertise.
Three times his mates cried out, "Aye, Donal' gi'e 's Sco'lan' the Brave!"
And three times the aggrieved Donald replied, "Wha'! Ag'in?"
And still he did not understand.

Three Irish men walking home from the pub: Shamus, Paddy, and Liam. They take a shortcut through a graveyard to the road. Shamus is the first one to fall over. "What's that?" Paddy asks.
"I tripped over a gravestone" said Shamus, "and the fella was 73 years old when he died."
"Blimey O'Reily" said Paddy, just as he himself tripped and fell. "This fella was 97 when he shuffled off" stated Paddy, "and his name was John Taggart".
"Blimey O'Reily" says Liam, just as he himself goes flying over another gravestone, "By the love of Mary!", exclaims Liam, "This fella was 157!"
"What was his name?" asks Shamus and Paddy, simultaneously.
Liam bends down, striking a match in the gloom to see the name on the stone, rising slowly he says, "His name was Miles..... from Dublin."

At an auction in Glasgow a wealthy American announced that he had lost his wallet containing £10,000 [$16,200] and would give a reward of £100 to the person who found it.
From the back of the hall a Scottish voice shouted, "I'll give £150."

Winters can be rather cold in northern Scotland, so the owner of the estate felt he was doing a good deed when he bought earmuffs for his farm hand, Archie.
Noticing, however, that Archie wasn't wearing the earmuffs even on the coldest day, the owner asked, "Didn't you like the earmuffs I gave you?"
Archie replied, not wishing to upset his employer, "Och, they are a wondrous thing."
"Then why don't you wear them then?"
Archie explained, "I was wearing them the first day, but somebody offered to buy me a drink and I didnae hear him."

Did you hear about the thoughtful Scotsman who was heading out to the pub? He turned to his wee wife before leaving and said, "Jackie - put your hat and coat on lassie."
She replied, "Hamish that's nice - are you taking me to the pub with you?"
"Och no, just switching the central heating off while I'm oot."

Mañana
Spanish singer Julio Iglesias was on television with British TV host Anne Diamond when he used the word 'mañana'. Diamond asked him to explain what it meant.
He said that the term means, "Maybe the job will be done tomorrow, maybe the next day, maybe the day after that. Perhaps next week, next month, next year. Who cares?"
The host turned to Irishman Shay Brennan who was also on the show and asked him if there was an equivalent term in Irish.
"No there isn't. In Ireland we don't have a word to describe that degree of urgency," replied Brennan.

As Father Fitzgerald was walking down the street in Dublin, he spied across the way young Michael Donovan, a small boy living in his parish. Michael was at the door of a home across the street attempting to push the doorbell.
But young Michael is on the short side and the doorbell was simply too high for him to reach no matter how hard he stretched. Father watched young Michael stretch and strain toward the bell for a short time, but the bell drew no closer to the small child“s fingers.
Father Fitzgerald strode quickly across the street ending up directly behind Michael standing at the door. While gently placing his hand on the small child“s shoulder, the good man of God bent lower and gave the doorbell a good steady ring.
Then, squatting down lower to young Michael“s height, Father Fitzgerald smiled knowingly and asked, “And now what, my young fellow?“
“Now, Fadder...“ replied Michael grinning, “now we run!“

Brian O’Connell drives a double-decker bus through the streets of Dublin. One day a very drunken Timothy Fogarty climbed aboard Brian’s bus taking a seat on the bottom deck near Brian. Brian is required not to allow any drunks onto his bus, but today he was rather light-hearted so he decided to let the inebriated Fogarty remain on board.
As is his wont when he has had a few, Timothy began talking a blue streak, which made Brian suggest that Timothy should sit on the upper deck.
"The air up there is clean and fresh, and you will get a much improved view," encouraged Brian.
Fogarty agreed and stumbled his way up top. He returned in only a few minutes.
"What’s wrong?“ Brian asked. "Didn't you like it better up there?"
Timothy replied, "It’s okay. But it’s far too dangerous."
"Too dangerous?" queried Brian. “How is that?"
"There’s no driver," answered Fogarty.