Thursday, March 17, 2016
Greetings Laff Lovers,
Since today is St. Patrick's Day, let's refresh our memories with a little information about the patron saint.
St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was not actually Irish. He was born on March 17 around AD 385, somewhere in Roman Britain, possibly near Dumbarton, Scotland. At 16, he was captured by Irish raiders looking for slaves and he was taken there to tend sheep.
After six years of slavery, he ran away and ended up wandering through southern Gaul (France) and Italy. There, he had a vision from God which told him to return to Ireland and convert the pagans to Christianity.
Returning to Ireland around 432, St. Patrick did missionary work until he died in 464. The country of Ireland went into mourning. The first St. Patrick's Day celebration in the United States was in 1737 in Boston.
Tonight we will be celebrating St. Patrick's Day when my wife drives my snake out of my pants.
Erin go bragh-ly,
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There was this guy who was half Irish, half Scottish. He wanted a drink, but he couldn't bring himself to pay for one!
Paddy and Mary, being good Irish Catholics, had so many children that they didn't know what to do...Paddy says to Mary, "Sure, and we have to get some advice from the parish priest. We can't keep on with anymore children."
So they went to see the priest, and the priest says to Paddy, "Now, me boyo, you know the church only allows two ways to limit the wee ones. One is to abstain altogether, and the other is the rhythm.."
Paddy scratches his head and says: "Well, now, Father, how in the hell am I going to find a ceili band at 4:00 o'clock in the morning?"
Paddy was rather sad after viewing the body of a dead atheist. "There he was. All dressed up and no place to go."
SEX IN THE IRISH TRADITION
Friday Night is very much love-night for the Irish man. Arriving back from the pub, having partaken of the traditional Irish aphrodisiac - 12 pints Guinness, and some fish and chips, his mind set on one thing - LOVE! Or as he say's himself "the ride." His lust, at fever pitch, after the sensuous excitement of a hard night's dominoes, he approaches his beloved wife, enticing her with gentle words of passion - "Any chance of me hole then love?" The good lady in question perhaps over excited by the erotic smell of Guinness or the sensuous vision of chips sticking to his chin, is at first somewhat reluctant. This coy reluctance is expressed with the flirtatious "Would ye ever fuck off!"
Foreplay is very important indeed. This basically consists of the male, whipping off his slightly soiled Y fronts provocatively at his wife, that usually land skid-mark side down, as he approaches the bed gyrating with one hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head, singing the ancient Gaelic fertility chant "Here we go, here we go, here we go" Upon reaching the bed he comments proudly on this rampant 8 incher. This is a classic example of alcohol induced double vision.
After 12 pints, sometimes the man's old Willie Winkie is a trifle reluctant to extend itself (literally). Impotence is very much a blow to the man's self esteem and the wife has to be very tactful. She will offer gentle and sensitive words of encouragement such as "Ye useless bastard, ye" or possibly "It never happens to the Milkman". Oral sex is a great favorite of the Irishman. He approaches his wife with a cheeky invitation, "How'd ye like to put your teeth round dis?" The woman nods willingly and points suggestively to her falsies smiling happily in a bedside tumbler. "Go on then", she says "but don't disturb me".
DOWN TO BUSINESS
Eventually the moment comes to consummate their tender love. Again alcohol induced double vision is an important factor as the man decides which of his willies to use for penetration. Sometimes in his excitement as he moves into his position he may suffer from severe premature ejaculation. A phenomenon he explains to his wife using the poetic phrase "Oh fuck, I've shot me load." If this does occur it is essential he makes up for disappointing his wife by uttering tender and loving compliments such as, perhaps, informing her she's the nicest woman he's ever come across. An imaginative lover, the Irishman, possibly having read the woman likes to be spoken dirty to, says such things as "shite, arsehole". The woman is speechless. The man is now thrusting away, his mind a kaleidoscope of jumbled erotic thoughts. The woman wonders if they should repaint the ceiling. Sometimes she utters a word of encouragement such as "Are you sure it's in?". Given his level sexual expertise the Irishman's ideal partner should be a versatile lover specializing in the faked orgasm. This takes the form of a breathless shout "Ooyah, ooyah, Big Boy." Eventually its all over. The man roles over, falls asleep and commences snoring like a pig. There's no one in the world performs quite like an Irishman - veritable prince in the kingdom of sex.