This one's an Irish joke.

Good one, C. i.


Here's one of my favorites:


Paddy and Brian were best of freinds. It came to pass that Paddy went to his maker, leavin' Mike with the sad task of fulfillin' the pledge they'd made to one another many years before. Late the night followin' Paddy's interment, Mike slipped off to the graveyard, somberley clutchin' the bottle of fine whiskey the two had set aside all those years past against this day. Thinkin' himself alone with his departed freind, Mike, as per their agreement opened the bottle and began to drink fom it, while reminiscing in soft voice over the times, good and bad, the two had shared.

His presence unknown to Mike, the watchman looked on from behind a tree, moved nearly to tears by the touchin' scene. For over an hour, Mike went on, his own voice thickenin', with sorrow and loss as the bottle emptied. Finally, there was no more whiskey, and Mike had no more to say. For a long while, he stood in somber silence, gazin' at Paddy's final plot. At length, Mike stepped closer to the grave, opened the fly of his trousers, and proceded to relieve himself on the freshly turned earth.

Appalled, the watchman burst forth, shoutin' "Here, now man! Just what is it you think you're doin' there? Tis sacrilege!"

Not pausin' in his endeavor, Mike calmly replied "Tend your own business, constable. There's no trouble here; I'm sharin' a last bottle wi' me mate, who's in no condition to quibble over the manner his portion is delivered".