andy Wrote:By contrast, my Irish credentials are unpeckable. Both my parents are Oirish, so I feel, sigh, obliged to meander up the road this evening to uphold the tradition, and of course meander a bit more wildly on the way back.
...which reminds me of another joke:
An Irishman dies and goes to Heaven. St. Peter says heaven is really crowded now and if he wants to get in he must first answer 3 questions.
"All right, that's fair. What's the first question?"
St. Peter says, "How many days of the week contain a T?"
The Irishman thinks a while and then says, "6"
St. Peter says, "Six. How do you get six?"
The Irishman says, "Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, yesterday, today, and tomorrow."
St. Peter says, "OK I'll let you have that one. But the next one is a little bit harder. How many seconds are there in a year."
The Irishman thins a bit more and then says, "Twelve."
St. Peter wants to know how he got that., "January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd, etc."
St. Peter says, "OK I'll let you have that one too. But the last one is really hard. What is God's first name.?"
The Irishman thinks for a long time and finally says, "OK I think I've got that one too. His first name is Andy."
St. Peter is really perplexed at this one. He says to the Irishman, "ANDY. How in the world did you get Andy."
The Irishman says, "From the hymn. 'Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me"
Murderous March
