Showing posts with label Irish Jokes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Irish Jokes. Show all posts

Sunday, 24 May 2009

Catholicism The Dependable Brand For Paedophiles


A 9 year inquiry into abuse suffered by children in Catholic institutions in Ireland has been described as "shocking reading" how about this instead "fucking long" at five volumes and 2,500 pages long.
I know the Irish like to stretch out jobs by leaning on their spades but 9 years? The report covered a period of six decades of abuse by priests and nuns.

35,000 children were placed in a network of reformatories, industrial schools and workhouses up to the 1980s. Hold on was that 1980 or 1880?

2,000 came forward and told the commission to inquire into the physical and sexual abuse they suffered while under Fenian care.

The commission was set up in the year 2000 after the Irish tribe leader Bertie Ahern issued an apology on behalf of the state to the victims of child abuse.

The government has already paid out almost one billion euros in compensation and legal fees to 12,500 people.

The children lived there until they were 16 and then they were cast out into the world traumatised after years of abuse, many immigrated as soon as they could.

Sadie O'Meara worked at one of the Magdalene Laundries by the Legion of Mary. She worked long hours washing and ironing customers laundry. Being the daughter of an unmarried mother she says she never found out why she ended up there and for four years suffered physical and emotional abuse in an institution run by the Sisters of Charity. Its usually the unmarried mothers and not the children that end up there often sent by their family.

Her typical account goes on to say:

"You'd be up at 6am and you had to go to two Masses," said Sadie O'Meara, a 15-year-old Tipperary girl working in Dublin.

"Your cell door was locked every night when you went in and you had a bucket and an iron bed and you couldn't look out the window. It was all bars.

"The food was absolutely brutal. And my mam died but they never told me she died. She died on Christmas Day but they never told me."

There are other accounts of various beatings with a leather strap or one of the Christian brothers banging yer head off a desk because they had a bad day.

If a sexy little 8 year-old caught the eye of one of the Christian brothers they had 24 hour access to do what they wanted or you'd be raped by the older boys, threatened and beat up by all if you reported anything.

The Christian brothers have already fixed it in 2004 that they will not have to give the names of any of the abusers dead or alive.

This blog does not sanction waterboarding for nuns, priests, popes or pedos in general. It does support putting them in a swimming pool filled with vinegar covered razor bladers and removing the ladder like in a Sims game.


Tuesday, 15 July 2008

To Be Sure To Be Sure


An Irish woman of advanced age visited her physician to ask his help in reviving her husband's libido.
"What about trying Viagra?" the doctor asked.
"Not a chance," she said. "He won't even take an aspirin."

"Not a problem," replied the doctor. "Give him an 'Irish Viagra'. It's when you drop the Viagra tablet into his coffee. He won't even taste it. Give it a try and call me in a week to let me know how things go."

It wasn't a week later that she called the doctor, who directly inquired as to the progress.
The poor dear exclaimed, "Jaysus! Twas horrid, loike! Just terrible, doctor!"
"Really? What happened?" the doctor asked.
"Well, I did as you advised and slipped it in his coffee, and the effect was almost immediate.
He jumped straight up, with a glimmer in his eye, and with his pants a-bulging fiercely, loike! With one swoop of his arm, he sent the cups and sugar flying, ripped me clothes to tatters and took me then and there....... took me passionately right on the tabletop! It was a nightmare, I tell you, an absolute nightmare!"
"Why so terrible?" asked the doctor. "Do you mean the sex your husband provided wasn't good?"

"No, twas the best sex I've had in 25 years, to be sure! But sure as I'm sittin' here, I'll never be able to show me face in Dunkin' Donuts again!"


No offense to any bog trotters reading this, we all appreciate yer contribution to the wars of terror in fighting yer fellow terrorist type against we the invaders.


Thursday, 15 March 2007

Three Wise Men.

An Engilshman, a Scotsman and an Irishman went into a pub for a pint of Guinness one day.
After being served a fly landed in each of their pints and stuck in the creamy heads.
The Englishman pushed his pint away from him in disgust and proceeded to order another pint.
The Scotsman simply fished the offending fly out with his finger and proceeded to drink his pint as if nothing had happened.
The Irishman, eyes wide with anger grabbed the fly and held it over his pint shouting "SPIT IT OUT!!! SPIT IT OUT YOU BASTARAD!!!"

Tuesday, 13 March 2007

PROTESTANT? PROSTITUTE?

Colleen had not been home for over five years. Upon her return her father cussed her. "Where have ye been all this time? Why did ye not write to us, not even a line? Why didn't ye call? Can ye not understand what ye put yer old mum thru?

Colleen replied, "Dad... I became a prostitute."

"Ye what!!? Out of here, ye shameless harlot! Sinner! You're a disgrace to this family.""OK, Dad-- as ye wish. I just came back to give mum this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a ten-bedroom mansion plus a savings certificate for $5 million.

For me little brother Sean, this gold Rolex and for ye Daddy, the sparkling new Mercedes limited edition convertible that's parked outside plus a membership to the country club....(takes a breath).... and an invitation for ye all to spend New Years Eve on board my new yacht in the Riviera, and...""Now what was it ye said ye had become?" says Dad.

Colleen said, "A prostitute Dad!"

"Oh! Be Jesus! Ye scared me half to death, girl! I thought ye said a Protestant.

Come here and give yer old man a hug!"

Monday, 12 March 2007

POOR OLD MURPHY

Old man Murphy had worked down at the brewery for years, but one day he just wasn't paying attention and he tripped on the walkway and fell over into the beer vat and drowned.

The foreman thought it should be his job to inform the widow Murphy of her old man's death.
He showed up at the front door and rang the bell.

When she came to the door, he said, "I'm sorry to tell you, but poor old Murphy passed away at work today when he fell into the vat and drowned."

She wept and covered her face with her apron and after a time, between sobs, she asked, "Tell me, did he suffer?"

"I don't think so," said the for man, "He got out three times to go to the men's room."