Ireland declares war on France
Discussion
You may have seen thi sbefore, but never mind.....
Breaking News Story
Jacques Chirac, The French Prime Minister, was sitting in his office wondering what kind of mischief he could perpetrate when his telephone rang.
"Hallo, Mr. Chirac!", a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Sligo, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Chirac replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
"Right now," said Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is myself, me cousin Sean, me next door neighbor Seamus, and the entire dart team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Chirac paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have one hundred thousand men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begorra!" said Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back!"
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy called again. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" Chirac asked. "Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Chirac sighed, amused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriBers. Also, I've increased my army to one hundred fifty thousand since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" said Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rang again the next day. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on!" We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We've modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Pub have joined us as well!"
Chirac was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100 bombers and 200 fighter planes. My military complex is surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I've increased my army to two hundred thousand!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!", said Paddy, "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy called again the next day. "Top o' the mornin', Mr.Chirac! I am sorry to tell you that we have had to call off the war."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Chirac. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," said Paddy, "we've all had a long chat over a bunch of pints, and decided there's no foo-kin way we can feed two hundred thousand prisoners."
>>> Edited by towman on Saturday 1st January 21:36
Breaking News Story
Jacques Chirac, The French Prime Minister, was sitting in his office wondering what kind of mischief he could perpetrate when his telephone rang.
"Hallo, Mr. Chirac!", a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Sligo, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Chirac replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
"Right now," said Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is myself, me cousin Sean, me next door neighbor Seamus, and the entire dart team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Chirac paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have one hundred thousand men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begorra!" said Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back!"
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy called again. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" Chirac asked. "Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Chirac sighed, amused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriBers. Also, I've increased my army to one hundred fifty thousand since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" said Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rang again the next day. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on!" We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We've modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Pub have joined us as well!"
Chirac was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100 bombers and 200 fighter planes. My military complex is surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I've increased my army to two hundred thousand!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!", said Paddy, "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy called again the next day. "Top o' the mornin', Mr.Chirac! I am sorry to tell you that we have had to call off the war."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Chirac. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," said Paddy, "we've all had a long chat over a bunch of pints, and decided there's no foo-kin way we can feed two hundred thousand prisoners."
>>> Edited by towman on Saturday 1st January 21:36
Was this an airfield in Northern Ireland? There certainly never were and never have been American air bases in the Republic of Ireland (or Irish Free State/Eire as it was previously).
And it can't have been that early in the the 20th century as no US Army Air Force planes or personnel came to Northern Ireland until 1942/43. Of course, the US Air Force didn't exist back then either as it only formally came into being in 1947.
Finally, the "Black and Tan" problems occured during the "Irish War of Independence" which took place between 1919 and 1921. Brendan Behan's period of activity in the IRA was during World War 2 - he was only born in 1923.
To be honest, I hate those particular kinds of "Irish" jokes as they really do perpetuate the myth of the thick, gormless "Paddy".
Although, to be honest, the comment about not being able to take prisoners sounds very like the reply given to the German officer who tried to negotiate surrender terms from the British paratroopers at Arnhem.
>> Edited by Eric Mc on Sunday 2nd January 08:48
And it can't have been that early in the the 20th century as no US Army Air Force planes or personnel came to Northern Ireland until 1942/43. Of course, the US Air Force didn't exist back then either as it only formally came into being in 1947.
Finally, the "Black and Tan" problems occured during the "Irish War of Independence" which took place between 1919 and 1921. Brendan Behan's period of activity in the IRA was during World War 2 - he was only born in 1923.
To be honest, I hate those particular kinds of "Irish" jokes as they really do perpetuate the myth of the thick, gormless "Paddy".
Although, to be honest, the comment about not being able to take prisoners sounds very like the reply given to the German officer who tried to negotiate surrender terms from the British paratroopers at Arnhem.
>> Edited by Eric Mc on Sunday 2nd January 08:48
Eric Mc said:
To be honest, I hate those particular kinds of "Irish" jokes as they really do perpetuate the myth of the thick, gormless "Paddy".
Murphy was walking along the road, when he passed a sign on a building site saying "Handyman wanted"..
He called in to see the foreman who agreed to start him at once.....
"Right" said the foreman, "Firstly, I want you to shift that pile of stone over there, into that corner"
"Oh!" said Murphy, "I can't be doing that, sir, I have a terrible bad back sir"......
"Errr, OK then" said the foreman, "Go and give Seamus a hand mixing that cement over there, by the mixer"
"Oh! Sorry sir, the fumes from the cement play terrible havoc with my chest, so they do sir!"
"Mmmmm", said the foreman, "Well go into that hut, and brew up for the men then"
"Errr, I hate to say this sir, but I am alergic to milk"
"Blimey", said the foreman, "What's so handy about you??"
"Well, sir, you see I only live round the corner".............
Ah Eric brilliant, this is a parody of what *might* have happened had you ever worked in a shop. Hope you find at least mildly amusing. 
Armed Robber: No nonsense. Just give me all your money.
Eric Mc : I shall commence by pointing out to you that my demeanour is
not one which could be described as nonsensical. Consequently I can
attest you have no cause to reprimand me on your first point. On to
your second point: Bearing in mind the potentially lethal situation in
which I find myself, to wit: your presence in conjuction with the
presumably loaded firearm which is presently levelled at my cranium, I
will comply with your request comprehensively, albeit reluctantly.
Here, twenty-seven pence.
Armed Robber: Twenty-seven pence? Fcuk off. There's more than that
in the till.
Eric Mc : Indeed, undoubtedly so. However your request was for 'my'
money. The currency in the till belongs to a third party and is
therefore not 'my money'. However, if you are still desirous of said
money I would suggest that you re-phrase your original statement to
recognise and incorporate this important distinction.
Armed Robber: No nonsense. Just give me all your money.
Eric Mc : I shall commence by pointing out to you that my demeanour is
not one which could be described as nonsensical. Consequently I can
attest you have no cause to reprimand me on your first point. On to
your second point: Bearing in mind the potentially lethal situation in
which I find myself, to wit: your presence in conjuction with the
presumably loaded firearm which is presently levelled at my cranium, I
will comply with your request comprehensively, albeit reluctantly.
Here, twenty-seven pence.
Armed Robber: Twenty-seven pence? Fcuk off. There's more than that
in the till.
Eric Mc : Indeed, undoubtedly so. However your request was for 'my'
money. The currency in the till belongs to a third party and is
therefore not 'my money'. However, if you are still desirous of said
money I would suggest that you re-phrase your original statement to
recognise and incorporate this important distinction.
Quite correct - I'm sure that tactic would work every time (you can see I never worked in a shop).
Unfortunately that now reminds me that my next duty is to spend a number of interminable hours traispsing through some of our local supermarkets. I shall see you all anon (depending on which glasses I'm wearing, of course).
>> Edited by Eric Mc on Sunday 2nd January 10:25
Unfortunately that now reminds me that my next duty is to spend a number of interminable hours traispsing through some of our local supermarkets. I shall see you all anon (depending on which glasses I'm wearing, of course).
>> Edited by Eric Mc on Sunday 2nd January 10:25
As a typical Englishman (although probably with some Irish ancestry), I didn't realise, until I was at a Finbar Furey gig in Oxfordshire awhile back, that "Biddy" was the feminine equivalent of "Paddy". I always thought it was a generic term for old women - "biddies" - not a name as such. You live and learn. BTW, Furey was his usual brilliant self.
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