Greetings from the TGIF corner here in Vermont USA, after a short trip
to Colorado last week to do some skiing with my brother Nate at Winter
Park. I can’t keep up with him but it was a great week of sunshine and
comradary with him, his wife Karen and their friends in the
“Skimiesters” – a club of senior skiers. We had fun one evening with one
of his good friends who kept trying to tell a joke among a group of us
that I didn’t already know the punch line to. Thanks to this Friday
hobby, he couldn’t put a new one past me, until the next day on the
ski lift, when he told me 2 new ones I hadn’t heard!
I returned home to Vermont last weekend and to temperatures in the
50s, 60s and even low 70s. Wait, I thought this was March! The maple
sugaring season started early this year and I learned yesterday that
it is already over – as the maple trees have started sprouting buds.
Apparently, the maple sugaring season started last year on 14 March,
and this year, it has ended on this same date. Reminds me of the one
about the New Jersey businessman who once visited Vermont and learned
a little about the making of maple syrup. He left thinking that
Vermonters were either really lazy or stupid – since if it was up to
him, he would collect sap during the whole year and make lots of maple
syrup and lots of money! Little did he realize that the maple sugaring
season is relatively short – dictated by nature and a period of cold
nights and warm days at the end of winter that stimulates the flow of
the sap.
So, it seems like spring has sprung, a lot earlier than usual. Must be
global warming. I heard today that some recent study has determined
that here in the USA the individual’s perception of whether “global
warming” is fact or fiction depends on your political inclinations.
The majority of Republicans think it is fiction. The majority of
Democrats and Independents think it is fact. Just one more issue that
illustrates the growing divide between the right and the left here.
But old-time Vermonters are not convinced by their experience that
Mother Nature doesn’t have one more winter blast to dump several
inches of snow on us, sometime between now and the middle of April.
Stay tuned for more on this in the weeks ahead!
Let’s switch to more pleasant topics. This month represents one of the
more interesting ones in terms of collegiate athletics as it is the
time of the end of season men’s and women’s college basketball
tournament and is known as “March Madness”. A total of 64 of the best
teams compete (both men and women’s teams) and when you lose, you are
out. If you win, you move on to the next round. If you lose, you go
home and the season is over. So, there is a lot of tension and
frenzied action where often the “underdog” team pulls off upset wins.
I wonder who the “Cinderalla” teams will be this year! I usually fill
out my bracket and compete with thousands of others. I sent mine in a
few days ago and the men’s tourney started on Thursday. So far, I am
100% on my picks. It probably won’t continue like that. Wish me luck!
Well, it’s the eve of St. Patrick’s Day – so do you wish to wager a
bet on what my theme is going to be for this week?
You Gotta Love the Irish!
Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an
important meeting and couldn't find a parking place. Looking up to
heaven he said, 'Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place
I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me
Irish Whiskey!'
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, 'Never mind, I found one.'
* * *
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he
meets, 'Do you want to go to heaven?'
The man said, 'I do, Father.'
The priest said, 'Then stand over there against the wall.'
Then the priest asked the second man, 'Do you want to go to heaven?'
'Certainly, Father,' the man replied.
'Then stand over there against the wall,' said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and asked, 'Do you want to go
to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'No, I don't Father.'
The priest said, 'I don't believe this. You mean to tell me that when
you die you don't want to go to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'Oh, when I die, yes. I thought you were getting a group
together to go right now.'
* * *
Paddy was in New York.
He was patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street
crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, 'Okay,
pedestrians.' Then he'd allow the traffic to pass.
He'd done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, 'Pedestrians!' for the tenth time, Paddy
went over to him and said, 'Is it not about time ye let the Catholics
across?'
* * *
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in
the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned 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?'
* * *
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for
speeding in Connecticut . The state trooper smells alcohol on the
priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the
car.
He says, 'Sir, have you been drinking?'
'Just water,' says the priest.
The trooper says, 'Then why do I smell wine?'
The priest looks at the bottle and says, 'Good Lord! He's done it again!'
* * *
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, 'Pour me a
stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.'
'Oh yeah?' said Charlie, 'And how did this one end?'
'When it was over,' Mike replied, 'She came to me on her hands and knees.'
'Really,' said Charles, 'Now that's a switch! What did she say?'
She said, 'Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.'
* * *
Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his
drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his
wife, Kathleen.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their
upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself
by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily
on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the
landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and
looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and
bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began
putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and
stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Patton woke up with searing pain in both his head and
butt and Kathleen staring at him from across the room.
She said, 'You were drunk again last night weren't you?'
Patton said, 'Why you say such a mean thing?'
'Well,' Kathleen said, 'it could be the open front door, it could be
the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of
blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but
mostly ....... it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
* * * * *
Six retired Irishmen were playing poker in O'Leary's apartment when
Paddy Murphy loses 500 Euros on a single hand, clutches his chest, and
drops dead at the table. Showing respect for their fallen brother, the
other five continue playing standing up.
Michael O'Conner looks around and asks, 'Oh, me boys, someone's got to
tell Paddy's wife. Who will it be?'
They draw straws. Paul Gallagher picks the short one. They tell him to
be discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation any worse.
'Discreet??? I'm the most discreet Irishmen you'll ever meet.
Discretion is me middle name. Leave it to me.'
Gallagher goes over to Murphy's house and knocks on the door. Mrs.
Murphy answers, and asks what he wants.
Gallagher declares, 'Your husband just lost 500 Euros, and is afraid
to come home.'
'Tell him to drop dead!', says Murphy's wife.
'I'll go an' tell him,' says Gallagher.
* * * * *
Never Believe An Irishman
An Irishman was drinking in a bar in London when he gets a call on his
cell phone.
He orders drinks for everybody in the bar as he announces his wife has
just produced a typical Irish baby boy weighing 25 pounds.
Nobody can believe that any new baby can weigh in at 25 pounds, but
the man just shrugs,
"That's about average up our way, folks...like I said - my boy's a
typical County Clare baby boy."
Two weeks later the man returns to the bar. The bartender says, "Say,
you're the father of that typical Irish baby that weighed 25 pounds at
birth, aren't you?
Everybody's been making' bets about how big he'd be in two weeks ....
so how much does he weigh now?"
The proud father answers, "Seventeen pounds."
The bartender is puzzled and concerned. "What happened? He was 25
pounds the day he was born."
The father takes a slow swig of his Jameson Irish Whisky, wipes his
lips on his shirt sleeve, leans into the bartender and proudly says,
"Had him circumcised."
* * * * *
The Irish Diet
Park. I can’t keep up with him but it was a great week of sunshine and
comradary with him, his wife Karen and their friends in the
“Skimiesters” – a club of senior skiers. We had fun one evening with one
of his good friends who kept trying to tell a joke among a group of us
that I didn’t already know the punch line to. Thanks to this Friday
hobby, he couldn’t put a new one past me, until the next day on the
ski lift, when he told me 2 new ones I hadn’t heard!
I returned home to Vermont last weekend and to temperatures in the
50s, 60s and even low 70s. Wait, I thought this was March! The maple
sugaring season started early this year and I learned yesterday that
it is already over – as the maple trees have started sprouting buds.
Apparently, the maple sugaring season started last year on 14 March,
and this year, it has ended on this same date. Reminds me of the one
about the New Jersey businessman who once visited Vermont and learned
a little about the making of maple syrup. He left thinking that
Vermonters were either really lazy or stupid – since if it was up to
him, he would collect sap during the whole year and make lots of maple
syrup and lots of money! Little did he realize that the maple sugaring
season is relatively short – dictated by nature and a period of cold
nights and warm days at the end of winter that stimulates the flow of
the sap.
So, it seems like spring has sprung, a lot earlier than usual. Must be
global warming. I heard today that some recent study has determined
that here in the USA the individual’s perception of whether “global
warming” is fact or fiction depends on your political inclinations.
The majority of Republicans think it is fiction. The majority of
Democrats and Independents think it is fact. Just one more issue that
illustrates the growing divide between the right and the left here.
But old-time Vermonters are not convinced by their experience that
Mother Nature doesn’t have one more winter blast to dump several
inches of snow on us, sometime between now and the middle of April.
Stay tuned for more on this in the weeks ahead!
Let’s switch to more pleasant topics. This month represents one of the
more interesting ones in terms of collegiate athletics as it is the
time of the end of season men’s and women’s college basketball
tournament and is known as “March Madness”. A total of 64 of the best
teams compete (both men and women’s teams) and when you lose, you are
out. If you win, you move on to the next round. If you lose, you go
home and the season is over. So, there is a lot of tension and
frenzied action where often the “underdog” team pulls off upset wins.
I wonder who the “Cinderalla” teams will be this year! I usually fill
out my bracket and compete with thousands of others. I sent mine in a
few days ago and the men’s tourney started on Thursday. So far, I am
100% on my picks. It probably won’t continue like that. Wish me luck!
Well, it’s the eve of St. Patrick’s Day – so do you wish to wager a
bet on what my theme is going to be for this week?
You Gotta Love the Irish!
Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an
important meeting and couldn't find a parking place. Looking up to
heaven he said, 'Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place
I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me
Irish Whiskey!'
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, 'Never mind, I found one.'
* * *
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he
meets, 'Do you want to go to heaven?'
The man said, 'I do, Father.'
The priest said, 'Then stand over there against the wall.'
Then the priest asked the second man, 'Do you want to go to heaven?'
'Certainly, Father,' the man replied.
'Then stand over there against the wall,' said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and asked, 'Do you want to go
to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'No, I don't Father.'
The priest said, 'I don't believe this. You mean to tell me that when
you die you don't want to go to heaven?'
O'Toole said, 'Oh, when I die, yes. I thought you were getting a group
together to go right now.'
* * *
Paddy was in New York.
He was patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street
crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, 'Okay,
pedestrians.' Then he'd allow the traffic to pass.
He'd done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, 'Pedestrians!' for the tenth time, Paddy
went over to him and said, 'Is it not about time ye let the Catholics
across?'
* * *
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in
the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned 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?'
* * *
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for
speeding in Connecticut . The state trooper smells alcohol on the
priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the
car.
He says, 'Sir, have you been drinking?'
'Just water,' says the priest.
The trooper says, 'Then why do I smell wine?'
The priest looks at the bottle and says, 'Good Lord! He's done it again!'
* * *
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, 'Pour me a
stiff one - just had another fight with the little woman.'
'Oh yeah?' said Charlie, 'And how did this one end?'
'When it was over,' Mike replied, 'She came to me on her hands and knees.'
'Really,' said Charles, 'Now that's a switch! What did she say?'
She said, 'Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.'
* * *
Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his
drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his
wife, Kathleen.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their
upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself
by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily
on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the
landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and
looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and
bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began
putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and
stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Patton woke up with searing pain in both his head and
butt and Kathleen staring at him from across the room.
She said, 'You were drunk again last night weren't you?'
Patton said, 'Why you say such a mean thing?'
'Well,' Kathleen said, 'it could be the open front door, it could be
the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of
blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but
mostly ....... it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
* * * * *
Six retired Irishmen were playing poker in O'Leary's apartment when
Paddy Murphy loses 500 Euros on a single hand, clutches his chest, and
drops dead at the table. Showing respect for their fallen brother, the
other five continue playing standing up.
Michael O'Conner looks around and asks, 'Oh, me boys, someone's got to
tell Paddy's wife. Who will it be?'
They draw straws. Paul Gallagher picks the short one. They tell him to
be discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation any worse.
'Discreet??? I'm the most discreet Irishmen you'll ever meet.
Discretion is me middle name. Leave it to me.'
Gallagher goes over to Murphy's house and knocks on the door. Mrs.
Murphy answers, and asks what he wants.
Gallagher declares, 'Your husband just lost 500 Euros, and is afraid
to come home.'
'Tell him to drop dead!', says Murphy's wife.
'I'll go an' tell him,' says Gallagher.
* * * * *
Never Believe An Irishman
An Irishman was drinking in a bar in London when he gets a call on his
cell phone.
He orders drinks for everybody in the bar as he announces his wife has
just produced a typical Irish baby boy weighing 25 pounds.
Nobody can believe that any new baby can weigh in at 25 pounds, but
the man just shrugs,
"That's about average up our way, folks...like I said - my boy's a
typical County Clare baby boy."
Two weeks later the man returns to the bar. The bartender says, "Say,
you're the father of that typical Irish baby that weighed 25 pounds at
birth, aren't you?
Everybody's been making' bets about how big he'd be in two weeks ....
so how much does he weigh now?"
The proud father answers, "Seventeen pounds."
The bartender is puzzled and concerned. "What happened? He was 25
pounds the day he was born."
The father takes a slow swig of his Jameson Irish Whisky, wipes his
lips on his shirt sleeve, leans into the bartender and proudly says,
"Had him circumcised."
* * * * *
The Irish Diet
An Irishman was terribly overweight, so his doctor put him on a diet.
'I want you to eat regularly for 2 days, then skip a day, then eat
regularly again for 2 days then skip a day.....
'And repeat this procedure for 2 weeks.
'The next time I see you, you should have lost at least 5 pounds.'
When the Irishman returned, he shocked the doctor by having lost
nearly 60 lbs!
'Why, that's amazing!' the doctor said, 'Did you follow my instructions?'
The Irishman nodded...'I'll tell you though, be jaesuz, I t'aut I were
going to drop dead on dat 'tird day.'
'From the hunger, you mean?' asked the doctor.
'No, from the skippin'!"
* * * * *
Paddy and Mick
Paddy and Mick go to London to donate sperm.
However, it was a disaster!
Paddy missed the tube and Mick came on the bus!
* * * * *
A Muslim was sitting next to Paddy on a plane.
Paddy ordered a whisky.
The stewardess asked the Muslim if he'd like a drink.
He replied in disgust, "I'd rather be raped by a dozen whores than let
liquor touch my lips!"
Paddy handed his drink back and said "Me too, I didn't know we had a choice!"
* * * * *
Paddy calls “Easyjet” to book a flight.
The operator asks "How many people are flying with you?"
Paddy replies "I don't know! It’s your f***ing plane!"
* * * * *
Paddy, the Irish boyfriend of the woman whose head was found on
Arbroath beach was asked to identify her.
A detective held up the head to which point Paddy said "I don't think
that's her, she wasn't that tall!"
* * * * *
Mick and Paddy are reading head stones at a nearby cemetery.
Mick says "Crikey! There's a bloke here who was 152!"
Paddy says "What's his name?"
Mick replies "Miles, from London!"
* * * * *
Paddy and his wife are lying in bed and the neighbours' dog is barking
like mad in the garden.
Paddy says "To hell with this!" and storms off.
He comes back upstairs 5 minutes later and his wife asks "What did you do?"
Paddy replies "I've put the dog in our garden. Let's see how they like it!"
* * * * * * * * * *
The St. Patrick’s Day TGIF Golden Classic
Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run
over by a train.
His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut and bruised
and he's walking with a limp.
"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.
"Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy.
"That little shit, O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you,
he must have had something in his hand."
"That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible
lickin' he gave me with it."
"Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself, didn't you have
something in your hand?""
"That I did," said Paddy. "Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of
beauty it was, but useless in a fight."
* * * * * * * * * *
Hope you all survived the Ides of March. Next week is the first day of
spring in the northern hemisphere. Looks like I’ll have to put away
the skis now and get out the bike and the golf clubs ….. that is,
unless we have that last winter blast that will likely come in the
next few weeks.
Have a great St. Patrick’s Day! You know that everyone is
Irish on the
17th of March. I actually have some Irish blood, from the Northern
Ireland counties of Antrum and Down. I’ll enjoy a few Jameson whiskeys
tomorrow. Cheers.
17th of March. I actually have some Irish blood, from the Northern
Ireland counties of Antrum and Down. I’ll enjoy a few Jameson whiskeys
tomorrow. Cheers.
Until next week, take care!
TGI-Jeff
