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	The Dog Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside with only a pet dog for company. One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked: "Father, me dog is dead. Could ya'be saying a mass for the poor creature?" Father Patrick replied, "I'm afraid not, we cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there are some Baptists down the lane, and there's no tellin' what they believe. Maybe they'll do something for the creature." Muldoon said, "I'll go right away Father, Do ya' think $5,000 is enough to donate for the service?" Father Patrick exclaimed: "Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus! Why didn't ya' tell me the dog was Catholic???" Click to add to Favorites Not So Bad An Irish girl went to London to work as a secretary and began sending home money and gifts to her parents. After a few years they asked her to come home for a visit, as her elderly father was getting frail and very hard of hearing. She pulled up to the family home in a Rolls Royce and stepped out wearing diamonds and a full-length fur coat. As she walked into the house her father said, "Hmmm--they seem to be paying secretaries awfully well in London these days." The girl took his hands and said "Dad--I've been meaning to tell you something for years but I didn't want to put it in a letter. Obviously I can't hide it from you any longer. I've become a prostitute." Her father gasped, put his hand on his chest and keeled over. The doctor was called but the old man had clearly lost the will to live. He was put to bed and the priest was called. As the priest administered the Last Rites with the mother and daughter weeping and wailing nearby, the old man muttered weakly, "I'm a goner--killed by my own daughter! Killed by the shame of what she's become!" "Please forgive me," his daughter sobbed, "I only wanted to have nice things! I wanted to send you money and the only way I could do it was by becoming a prostitute." Brushing the priest aside, the old man sat bolt upright in bed, smiling. "Did you say PROSTITUTE ?? I thought you said PROTESTANT!! Claddagh Jewelry from Ireland Wedding and Family Rings, Pendants. An Irishman named O'Malley went to his doctor after a long illness. The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked O'Malley in the eye and said, "I've some bad news for you. You have cancer, and it can't be cured. You'd best put your affairs in order." O'Malley was shocked and saddened. But, being of solid character, he managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting room. To his son who had been waiting, O'Malley said, "Well son, we Irish celebrate when things are good, and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. Requires a Java Enabled Browser. I have cancer. Let's head for the pub and have a few pints." After 3 or 4 pints, the two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of O'Malley's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. O'Malley told them that the Irish celebrate the good and the bad. He went on to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end. He told his friends, "I have been diagnosed with AIDS." The friends gave O'Malley their condolences, and they had a couple more beers. After his friends left, O'Malley's son leaned over and whispered his confusion. "Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer? You just told your friends that you were dying from AIDS!" O'Malley said, "I don't want any of them sleeping with your mother after I'm gone." "The Irish"....ya gotta love 'em
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