Eines schönen Tages in Irland........

Eines schönen Tages in Irland kommt ein Golfer zum 16. Loch. Er holt aus - und verschlägt den Ball. Unglücklicherweise fliegt er in den Wald jenseits des Bächleins. Der Golfer macht sich auf den Weg, seinen Ball zu suchen, da entdeckt er auf dem Waldboden ein kleines Männchen mit einer riesigen Beule auf dem Kopf, und der Golfball liegt direkt neben ihm.
"Du liebe Zeit!" ruft der Golfer und beginnt sofort mit Wiederbelebungsversuchen. Als das Männchen seine Augen aufschlägt, sagt es: "Gut, du hast mich mit allen Regeln der Kunst zur Strecke gebracht. Ich bin ein Kobold. Du hast nun drei Wünsche frei." Der Mann antwortet: "Ich kann nichts von dir annehmen, ich bin froh, dass ich dich nicht zu schlimm getroffen habe", und geht weg.
Während der Kobold ihm nachschaut, sagt er: "Das war ein wirklich netter Kerl, und er hat mich ehrlich k.o. geschlagen, ich muss etwas für ihn tun. Ich gebe ihm drei Dinge, die ich mir wünschen würde. Ich gebe ihm unendlich viel Geld, mache ihn zu einem großen Golfspieler und schenke ihm ein phantastisches Sexleben."
Nun, ein Jahr zieht ins Land und der selbe Golfer spielt wieder an der selben Stelle am 16. Loch. Er hebt den Schläger und schlägt den Ball wieder so unglücklich, dass er in den selben Wald fliegt. Der Mann begibt sich wieder auf die Suche nach dem Ball. Als er ihn findet, sieht er den selben kleinen Kerl und fragt ihn, wie es ihm geht.
"Danke, gut!", antwortet der, "darf ich mal fragen, wie es deinem Golfspiel geht?" - "Großartig! Ich schlage jedes mal unter Pari". Der Kobold sagt: "Ich habe das für dich getan. Darf ich auch wissen, wie es dir finanziell geht?"
Der Golfer antwortet: "Jetzt, wo du es sagst, jedes mal, wenn ich die Hand in meine Tasche stecke, ziehe ich einen Hunderter heraus!" Der Kobold lächelt und sagt: "Auch das habe ich für dich getan. Und jetzt würde ich noch gerne wissen, wie es um dein Sexleben steht!"
Verschämt blickt der Golfer den Kleinen an und sagt: "Naja, vielleicht ein-, zweimal die Woche."
Der Kobold ist am Boden zerstört und stammelt: "Ein-, zweimal die Woche? Ist das alles?"
Der Golfer blickt ihn an und sagt:

"Hmmm, das ist nicht so übel für den Priester einer kleinen Gemeinde!"



und nun ein paar irische Jokes ....
sorry, aber die kann man nicht übersetzen !


'Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain.
Welcome to Flight 293, non-stop from London Heathrow to Toronto.
The weather ahead is good so we should have a smooth, uneventful flight. So sit back, relax and ... OH MY GOD!'

Silence followed!

Some moments later the captain came back on the intercom.
'Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry if I scared you. While I was talking to you, a flight attendant accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee in my lap.
You should see the front of my pants!'

One Irish passenger yelled,

'by Jaysus you should see the back of mine!'




The village doesn't have an oldest inhabitant. He died six month ago.

Louis XIV asked Count Mahoney if he understood Italian: "Yes, please, Your Majesty, if it's spoken in Irish."

Asked for a weather forecast, an Irish man replied: "If you can see those mountains, it soon will be raining. If you cannot see them it's already raining."



A man and his wife walked into a dentist's office. The man said to the dentist, "Doc, I'm in one hell of a hurry! I have two buddies sitting out in my car waiting for us to go play golf. So forget about the anesthetic and just pull the tooth and be done with it. We have a 10:00 AM tee time at the best golf course in town and it's 9:30 already. I don't have time to wait for the anesthetic to work!"
The dentist thought to himself, "My goodness, this is surely a very brave man asking to have his tooth pulled without using anything to kill the pain." So the dentist ask him, "Which tooth is it sir?"
The man turned to his wife and said, "Open your mouth Honey, and show him."




On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning.
One Irish woman in particular loses it. Screaming, she stands up in front of the plane. "I'm too young to die!" she wails. "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on Earth to be memorable! I've had plenty of sex in my life, but no one has ever made me really feel like a woman!
Well I've had it! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?"
For a moment, there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril, and they all stare, riveted, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane.
Then, a man stands up in the rear of the plane. "I can make you feel like a woman," he says.
He's gorgeous. Tall, built, with long, flowing black hair and beautiful brown eyes, he starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. No one moves.
The Irish woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the stranger approaches. He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches her, he extends his arm holding his shirt to the trembling woman, and whispers:  "Iron this." !



St. Patrick's Skull
Bud Nelson, from New York, flew to Knock Airport in the west of Ireland on business. As he walked down the stairs from the plane onto the runway he noticed a small Irishman standing beside a long table with an assortment of Human Skulls.
"What are you doing?" asked the American.
"O'im selling skulls", replied the Irishman.
"And what skulls do you have?" said Bud.
"Well, I have the skulls of the most famous Irishmen that ever lived!!" said the Irishman.
"That's great!" said Bud. "Give me some names!"
"Well!" said the Irishman, pointing to various skulls. "That one there is James Joyce, the famous author and playwright, that one there is St. Brendan, the Navigator, that's Michael Collins the leader of the 1916 rising, and that one there is St. Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland...god bless his soul.."
"Sorry" said Bud, "But did you say St. Patrick?"
"That's correct!" said the Irishman.
"I have to have that!" said Bud and paid him £50.00 in cash.
Bud flew back to New York and mounted his Skull on the wall in his Pub. People came from all over America to view this famous Skull. He made a fortune over a five year period and retired a very rich man. During his retirement, he decided to go back to visit Ireland, the land that made him a fortune.
Bud flew back into Knock airport, and while walking down the stairs saw the same Irishman at the bottom of the stairs.
"God", said Bud, "What are you doing?"
"O'im selling skulls", replied the Irishman.
"And what skulls do you have today?" said Bud.
"Well, I have the skulls of the most famous Irishmen that ever lived!!" said the Irishman.
"That's great!" said Bud. "Give me some names!"
"Well!" said the Irishman, pointing to various skulls. "That one there is James Joyce, the famous author and playwright, that one there is St. Brendan, the Navigator, that's Michael Collins the leader of the 1916 rising, and that one there is St. Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland...god bless his soul.."
"Sorry" said Bud, "But did you say St. Patrick?"
"That's correct!" said the Irishman. "Well!", said Bud, I was here almost 7 years ago and you sold me a Skull a little bit bigger than that one there, and you told me then that the skull was St. Patrick."
"Oh yes!" said the Irishman, "I remember you now!...you see... This is St. Patrick when he was a boy!!"