Irish joke, no offense meant. meant to cheer you all up.
#1
There was this young lad who worked in a post office sorting office,
whose job it was to handle all mail that had illegible addresses. One day
a letter came to his department, addressed in a very shaky and spidery
handwriting to none other than God. He thought, "Janey Mac, better open
this one and see what it's all about" so he opened it and read:
"Dear God, I am an 83-year-old widow in Raheny living on a very small
pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had a hundred euro in it,
which was all the money I had until my next pension payment.
Next Sunday is Easter, and I had invited two of my pals over for dinner.
Without that money, I have nothing to buy any food with. I have no family
to turn to, and You are my only hope. Can you please help me?"
The postal worker was touched, and went around showing the letter to all
the others. Each of them dug into his wallet and camp up with a few euro.
By the time he made the rounds, he had collected 96 euro, which they put
into an envelope and sent over to her. The rest of the day, all the
workers felt a warm glow, thinking of the nice thing they had done.
Easter came and went, and a few days later came another letter from the
old lady to God. All the workers gathered around while the letter was
opened. It read:
"Dear God, this is that widow in Raheny. How can I ever thank you enough
for what You did for me? Because of Your generosity, I was able to
arrange a really lovely dinner for my two friends. We had a very nice
day, and I told my friends of Your
wonderful gift. "By the way, there was 4 euro missing. It was no doubt
those thieving ******* in the post office."
whose job it was to handle all mail that had illegible addresses. One day
a letter came to his department, addressed in a very shaky and spidery
handwriting to none other than God. He thought, "Janey Mac, better open
this one and see what it's all about" so he opened it and read:
"Dear God, I am an 83-year-old widow in Raheny living on a very small
pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had a hundred euro in it,
which was all the money I had until my next pension payment.
Next Sunday is Easter, and I had invited two of my pals over for dinner.
Without that money, I have nothing to buy any food with. I have no family
to turn to, and You are my only hope. Can you please help me?"
The postal worker was touched, and went around showing the letter to all
the others. Each of them dug into his wallet and camp up with a few euro.
By the time he made the rounds, he had collected 96 euro, which they put
into an envelope and sent over to her. The rest of the day, all the
workers felt a warm glow, thinking of the nice thing they had done.
Easter came and went, and a few days later came another letter from the
old lady to God. All the workers gathered around while the letter was
opened. It read:
"Dear God, this is that widow in Raheny. How can I ever thank you enough
for what You did for me? Because of Your generosity, I was able to
arrange a really lovely dinner for my two friends. We had a very nice
day, and I told my friends of Your
wonderful gift. "By the way, there was 4 euro missing. It was no doubt
those thieving ******* in the post office."
#6
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I cannot believe you are posting trivial racist stuff like this when poor little foxes are being murdered in their thousands by toffs of horseback accompanied by rabid hounds - show some respect!m
BTW - Good Joke, lol!
BTW - Good Joke, lol!
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#13
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Cloumbia300 Man - not only do you appear to hate and deride the Irish you are saying it could easily have been an English person! are there any types of people you do like you fascist
I bet you beat up old ladies as well, you sound like the type
I'll get my coat.....
(still like the joke and mailed it onto a couple of people i know).
I bet you beat up old ladies as well, you sound like the type
I'll get my coat.....
(still like the joke and mailed it onto a couple of people i know).
#14
Janey mac
Begorrah and top of the morning to ya
I'm off down the pub to meet up with my friend darby o gill
Who knows ... some of the little people may even be there
Begorrah and top of the morning to ya
I'm off down the pub to meet up with my friend darby o gill
Who knows ... some of the little people may even be there
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