Et une petite dernière pour finir l'année en beauté lecteur ! Tu sauras qu'en Irlande, on a la joke facile au sujet des relations de couple. En voici une preuve :
Padraic Flaherty came home drunk every evening toward ten. Now, the Missus was never too happy about it, either.
So one night she hides in the cemetery and figures to scare the beejeezus out of him. As poor Pat wanders by, up from behind a tombstone she jumps in a red devil costume screaming, "Padraic Sean Flaherty, sure if ya' don't give up you're drinkin' it's to Hell I'll take ye'".
Pat, undaunted, staggered back and demanded, "Who the hell ARE you?".
To that the Missus replied, "I'm the divil ya' damned old fool".
To which Flaherty remarked, "Damned glad to meet you sir, I'm married to yer sister."
jeudi 20 décembre 2007
mardi 20 novembre 2007
Humour local - EN only (9)
Lecteur, tu es impatient je le sais, alors ce mois ci sans plus attendre voilà ta joke irlandaise !
A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink. "Why of course," comes the reply.
The first man then asks: "Where are you from?" "I'm from Ireland," replies the second man.
The first man responds: "You don't say, I'm from Ireland too! Let's have another round to Ireland."
"Of Course," replies the second man. Curious, the first man then asks: "Where in Ireland are you from?" "Dublin," comes the reply. "I can't believe it," says the first man. "I'm from Dublin too! Let's have another drink to Dublin."
"Of course," replies the second man. Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: "What school did you go to?" "Saint Mary's," replies the second man. "I graduated in '62."
"This is unbelievable!" the first man says. "I went to Saint Mary's and I graduated in '62, too!"
About that time in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar. "What's been going on?" he asks the bartender. "Nothing much," replies the bartender. "The O'Malley twins are drunk again."
A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink. "Why of course," comes the reply.
The first man then asks: "Where are you from?" "I'm from Ireland," replies the second man.
The first man responds: "You don't say, I'm from Ireland too! Let's have another round to Ireland."
"Of Course," replies the second man. Curious, the first man then asks: "Where in Ireland are you from?" "Dublin," comes the reply. "I can't believe it," says the first man. "I'm from Dublin too! Let's have another drink to Dublin."
"Of course," replies the second man. Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: "What school did you go to?" "Saint Mary's," replies the second man. "I graduated in '62."
"This is unbelievable!" the first man says. "I went to Saint Mary's and I graduated in '62, too!"
About that time in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar. "What's been going on?" he asks the bartender. "Nothing much," replies the bartender. "The O'Malley twins are drunk again."
samedi 20 octobre 2007
Humour local - EN only (8)
Hey lecteur !
Voici un nouveau challenge. Voilà une joke que si tu ne te l'imagines pas dans ta tête avé l'accen', tu la comprends pas. Good luck !
An Irishman went for an interview with one of the major blue chip computer companies. When the interview was over the interviewer told him that all applicants had to complete a test. The interviewer took a piece of paper and drew six vertical lines in pairs of two on the paper and placed it in front of the Irishman.
"Could you please show me a clever way to make this into nine?"
After thinking for a while the Irishman took the pencil and drew a canopy of leaves on top of the three pairs of lines, and handed the paper back to the interviewer.
The interviewer looked at the drawings and said: "But that is not nine!"
"Oh yes it is", said the Irishman with a broad Irish accent, "Tree + Tree +Tree make nine!"
The interviewer handed the paper back to the Irishman and asked him to make it 99. After thinking for a longer while the Irishman scribbled up and down the trunks and handed the paper back to the interviewer.
The interviewer looked at the drawings and said: "But that is not ninety nine!"
"Oh yes it is", said the Irishman, "Dirty tree + dirty tree + dirty tree make ninety nine." The interviewer was now a bit cheesed off so he decided to do the Irishman once and for all, therefore, he handed the paper back to the Irishman and asked him to make it 100.
After thinking for a considerably longer time the Irishman suddenly grabbed the pencil and drew a little blop on the bottom right hand side of each three and handed the paper back to the interviewer.
The interviewer looked at the drawings and said: "But that is not 100!"
"Oh yes it most certainly is", said the Irishman with a much broader Irish accent, "Dirty tree and a turd + dirty tree and turd + dirty tree and a turd make 100!!!!!"
Voici un nouveau challenge. Voilà une joke que si tu ne te l'imagines pas dans ta tête avé l'accen', tu la comprends pas. Good luck !
An Irishman went for an interview with one of the major blue chip computer companies. When the interview was over the interviewer told him that all applicants had to complete a test. The interviewer took a piece of paper and drew six vertical lines in pairs of two on the paper and placed it in front of the Irishman.
"Could you please show me a clever way to make this into nine?"
After thinking for a while the Irishman took the pencil and drew a canopy of leaves on top of the three pairs of lines, and handed the paper back to the interviewer.
The interviewer looked at the drawings and said: "But that is not nine!"
"Oh yes it is", said the Irishman with a broad Irish accent, "Tree + Tree +Tree make nine!"
The interviewer handed the paper back to the Irishman and asked him to make it 99. After thinking for a longer while the Irishman scribbled up and down the trunks and handed the paper back to the interviewer.
The interviewer looked at the drawings and said: "But that is not ninety nine!"
"Oh yes it is", said the Irishman, "Dirty tree + dirty tree + dirty tree make ninety nine." The interviewer was now a bit cheesed off so he decided to do the Irishman once and for all, therefore, he handed the paper back to the Irishman and asked him to make it 100.
After thinking for a considerably longer time the Irishman suddenly grabbed the pencil and drew a little blop on the bottom right hand side of each three and handed the paper back to the interviewer.
The interviewer looked at the drawings and said: "But that is not 100!"
"Oh yes it most certainly is", said the Irishman with a much broader Irish accent, "Dirty tree and a turd + dirty tree and turd + dirty tree and a turd make 100!!!!!"
dimanche 9 septembre 2007
Humour local - EN only (7)
Alors, lecteur, on en redemande, de l'humour irlandais ? En voici une, qu'elle est bien bonne !
There is an old Irish couple, Margaret and Paddy.
Margaret walks into the living room where Paddy is and says, "Patrick, oh I am so proud of you, so proud. Last month, I told you that you were spending too much time at the pub and too much time away from me. Since then you haven't gone to the pub once and stayed home. I want to do something special for ya, I want to make ya a special dinner, special indeed."
Paddy replied, "Oh Margaret, you don't have to do that, don't trouble yourself." "No, it's no trouble"
Margaret insisted, "In fact, when we were on holiday last year, you really enjoyed those Escargots. You go to the store and get them snails and I'll make 'em up for ya." Paddy got excited, "Oh, that would be wonderful!! O.K., o.k. I'll go right away."
So Paddy goes to the store to get the snails, but has to pass by the pub on the way. As he passes, everyone in the pub starts yelling, "Hey Paddy!! Where ya been, boy? Come on in and let me buy ya a pint!!!"
Paddy refuses, "No, no, no, no. I've got to get to the store.........No, I've got to go." They keep it up, "C'mon Paddy, just one, let me buy ya one!"
Paddy answers "No, no, no, I've got to go".
Paddy refuses, "No, no, no, no. I've got to get to the store.........No, I've got to go." They keep it up, "C'mon Paddy, just one, let me buy ya one!"
Paddy answers "No, no, no, I've got to go".
Paddy makes it to the store and gets them snails. Well, on his way back he has to go past the pub once again, and his buddies start in again, "Hey Paddy!! Come on in and let me buy ya a pint!!!"
Paddy answers, "No, no, no, no. I've got to get home.........No, I've got to go".
They beg, "C'mon boy, just one."
Paddy responds, "No, I've got to go. I've got..........Well..........Just one."
Paddy answers, "No, no, no, no. I've got to get home.........No, I've got to go".
They beg, "C'mon boy, just one."
Paddy responds, "No, I've got to go. I've got..........Well..........Just one."
It's 11:00 pm when Paddy looks down on his watch: "Oh No!! I've got to go!!"
Paddy starts running home, he gets to the gate and flings it open and then trips and damn them snails go flying everywhere.
Margaret hears the ruckus and comes out and yells, "Paddy! It's after 11 o'clock! What took ya so long?!? Where ya been?!?"
Patty looks up at Margaret, looks down and sees the snails spread out everywhere, gets up, waves and says:
Paddy starts running home, he gets to the gate and flings it open and then trips and damn them snails go flying everywhere.
Margaret hears the ruckus and comes out and yells, "Paddy! It's after 11 o'clock! What took ya so long?!? Where ya been?!?"
Patty looks up at Margaret, looks down and sees the snails spread out everywhere, gets up, waves and says:
mardi 10 juillet 2007
Humour local - EN only (6)
Lecteur saches le, en Irlande on blague de tout, et surtout des choses qui fâchent. Voici encore un exemple d'humour irlandais sur un tout autre sujet...
Once upon a time in the kingdom of Heaven, God went missing for seven days. Eventually, Michael the Archangle found him.
He inquired of God,"where were you?".
God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds; "look son, look what I'm after making".
The Archangle Micahel looked puzzled and said, "what is it?"
God replied, "it's another planet but I'm after putting LIFE on it. I've named it Earth and there's going to be a balance between everything on it.
For example, there's north America and south America. North America is going to be rich and south America is going to be poor, and the narrow bit joining them - that's going to be a hotspot. Now look over here. I've put a continent of whites in the north and another one of blacks in the south.
And then the Archangle said, "and what's that green dot there?".
And God said "ahhh that's the Emerald Isle - that's a very special place. That's going to be the most glorious spot onearth; Beautiful mountains, lakes, rivers, streams, and an exquisite coast line. These people here are going to be great craic and they're going to be found traveling the world.They'll be playwrights and poets and singers and songwriters. And I'm going to give them this black liquid which they're going to go mad on and for which people will come from the far corners of the earth to imbibe.
Michael the Archangle gasped in wonder and admiration but then seeming startled proclaimed: "Hold on a second, what about the BALANCE, you said there was going to be a balance".
God replied wisely: "Wait until you see the neighbours I'm going to give them".
Once upon a time in the kingdom of Heaven, God went missing for seven days. Eventually, Michael the Archangle found him.
He inquired of God,"where were you?".
God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds; "look son, look what I'm after making".
The Archangle Micahel looked puzzled and said, "what is it?"
God replied, "it's another planet but I'm after putting LIFE on it. I've named it Earth and there's going to be a balance between everything on it.
For example, there's north America and south America. North America is going to be rich and south America is going to be poor, and the narrow bit joining them - that's going to be a hotspot. Now look over here. I've put a continent of whites in the north and another one of blacks in the south.
And then the Archangle said, "and what's that green dot there?".
And God said "ahhh that's the Emerald Isle - that's a very special place. That's going to be the most glorious spot onearth; Beautiful mountains, lakes, rivers, streams, and an exquisite coast line. These people here are going to be great craic and they're going to be found traveling the world.They'll be playwrights and poets and singers and songwriters. And I'm going to give them this black liquid which they're going to go mad on and for which people will come from the far corners of the earth to imbibe.
Michael the Archangle gasped in wonder and admiration but then seeming startled proclaimed: "Hold on a second, what about the BALANCE, you said there was going to be a balance".
God replied wisely: "Wait until you see the neighbours I'm going to give them".
vendredi 11 mai 2007
Humour local - EN only (5)
Allez, lecteur, je le sais, tu l'attends, la blague irlandaise du mois ! Cette fois ci lecteur , âme sensible s'abstenir, on va mélanger deux tabous, sexe et religion, une chose qu'on retrouve souvent dans les blagues irlandaises.
One fine day in Ireland, a guy is out golfing and gets up to the 16th hole. He tees up and cranks one. Unfortunately, it goes into the woods on the side of the fairway. He goes looking for his ball and comes across this little guy with this huge knot on his head, and the golf ball lying right beside him.
One fine day in Ireland, a guy is out golfing and gets up to the 16th hole. He tees up and cranks one. Unfortunately, it goes into the woods on the side of the fairway. He goes looking for his ball and comes across this little guy with this huge knot on his head, and the golf ball lying right beside him.
"Goodness," says the golfer, and proceeds to revive the poor little guy. Upon awaking, the little guy says, "Well, you caught me fair and square. I am a Leprechaun. I will grant you three wishes."
The man says "I can't take anything from you, I'm just glad I didn't hurt you too badly,"
and walks away.
Watching the golfer depart, the leprechaun says "Well, he was a nice enough guy, and he did catch me, so I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things that I would want. I'll give him unlimited money, a great golf game, and a great sex life."
Well, a year goes past and the same golfer is out golfing on the same course at
the 16th hole. He gets up and hits one into the same woods and goes off looking for his ball. When he finds the ball he sees the same little guy and asks how he is doing. The leprechaun says, "I'm fine, and might I ask how your golf game is?" The golfer says, "It's great! I hit under par every time."
The leprechaun says, "I did that for you. And might I ask how your money is holding out?"
The golfer says, "Well, now that you mention it, every time I put my hand in my pocket, I pull out a hundred dollar bill."
The leprechaun smiles and says, "I did that for you, too. And might I ask how your sex life is?"
The golfer looks at him a little shyly and says, "Well, maybe once or twice a week."
The leprechaun is floored and stammers, "Once or twice a week? Is that all?!"
The golfer looks at him and says, "Well, that's not too bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish."mercredi 11 avril 2007
Humour local - EN only (4)
Lecteur, tu as réussi le challenge de la dernière blague ? Allez, cette fois j'suis sympa, j't'en ai réservé une facile et légère. Le genre de blague typique.
Tim Kelly was walking therough a dim passageway when someone spoke to him.
"Good evenin', Kelly," said the muffled figure. "Don't ye be knowin' your old friend Grogan any more?"
Kelly stared at Grogan, whose face was a patchwork of bandages and adhesive
plaster. One arm was in a sling and he was leaning on a crutch.
"Saints!" cried Kelly. "Was ye hit by a train, Grogan, or did ye merely jump from the trestle?"
"It could've been both," said Grogan, "considerin' the feel of it. But the truth is, I was in bed with Murphy's wife when Murphy himself comes in with a murtherin' big shillelagh in his hand, and the inconsiderate creature beat the livin' bejazus outa me."
"He did indade," said Kelly. "But couldn't ye defend y'rself, Grogan? Hadn't ye nothin' in your own hand?"
"Only Mrs. Murphy's ass," said Grogan. "It's a beautiful thing in itself, but not worth a dom in a fight."
Tim Kelly was walking therough a dim passageway when someone spoke to him.
"Good evenin', Kelly," said the muffled figure. "Don't ye be knowin' your old friend Grogan any more?"
Kelly stared at Grogan, whose face was a patchwork of bandages and adhesive
plaster. One arm was in a sling and he was leaning on a crutch.
"Saints!" cried Kelly. "Was ye hit by a train, Grogan, or did ye merely jump from the trestle?"
"It could've been both," said Grogan, "considerin' the feel of it. But the truth is, I was in bed with Murphy's wife when Murphy himself comes in with a murtherin' big shillelagh in his hand, and the inconsiderate creature beat the livin' bejazus outa me."
"He did indade," said Kelly. "But couldn't ye defend y'rself, Grogan? Hadn't ye nothin' in your own hand?"
"Only Mrs. Murphy's ass," said Grogan. "It's a beautiful thing in itself, but not worth a dom in a fight."
samedi 10 mars 2007
Humour local - EN only (3)
Lecteur, tu commences à t'habituer à l'humour irlandais, je le sens. Et comme les habitudes ce n'est pas bon, je te propose un challenge.
Voici une blague irlandaise du terroir, avec l'accent. C'est autrement plus difficile de saisir l'humour là dedans, surtout si, lecteur, tu n'as jamais habité en Irlande. Ah oui, il y a quelques subtilités que l'on n'acquière qu'avec des mois de cohabitation en milieu hostile. A toi, lecteur !
Paddy was trapped in a bog and seemed a goner when Big Mick O'Reilly wandered
by.
"Help!" Paddy shouted, "Oi'm sinkin'!"
Don't worry," assured Mick. "Next to the Strong Muldoon, Oi'm the strongest man in Erin, and Oi'll pull ye right out o' there."
Mick leaned out and grabbed Paddy's hand and pulled and pulled to no avail.
After two more unsuccessful attempts, Mick said to Paddy, "Shure, an' Oi can't do it. The Strong Muldoon could do it alone, mebbe, but Oi'll have to get some help."
As Mick was leaving, Paddy called "Mick! Mick! D'ye think it will help if Oi pull me feet out of the stirrups?"
Voici une blague irlandaise du terroir, avec l'accent. C'est autrement plus difficile de saisir l'humour là dedans, surtout si, lecteur, tu n'as jamais habité en Irlande. Ah oui, il y a quelques subtilités que l'on n'acquière qu'avec des mois de cohabitation en milieu hostile. A toi, lecteur !
Paddy was trapped in a bog and seemed a goner when Big Mick O'Reilly wandered
by.
"Help!" Paddy shouted, "Oi'm sinkin'!"
Don't worry," assured Mick. "Next to the Strong Muldoon, Oi'm the strongest man in Erin, and Oi'll pull ye right out o' there."
Mick leaned out and grabbed Paddy's hand and pulled and pulled to no avail.
After two more unsuccessful attempts, Mick said to Paddy, "Shure, an' Oi can't do it. The Strong Muldoon could do it alone, mebbe, but Oi'll have to get some help."
As Mick was leaving, Paddy called "Mick! Mick! D'ye think it will help if Oi pull me feet out of the stirrups?"
vendredi 9 février 2007
Humour local - EN only (2)
Tu as aimé la première irish joke, lecteur ? Tu en redemandes ?
Tu as bien de la chance, j'en ai une sous la main et dans ma grande bonté, je la partage avec toi. Si ce n'est pas de la générosité ça !
An Irish daughter had not been home for over 5 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?
The girl, crying, replied, "Sniff, sniff....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, 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.
Girl, crying again, "Sniff, sniff....a prostitute dad! Sniff, sniff."
"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!"
Tu as bien de la chance, j'en ai une sous la main et dans ma grande bonté, je la partage avec toi. Si ce n'est pas de la générosité ça !
An Irish daughter had not been home for over 5 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?
The girl, crying, replied, "Sniff, sniff....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, 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.
Girl, crying again, "Sniff, sniff....a prostitute dad! Sniff, sniff."
"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!"
mardi 9 janvier 2007
Humour local - EN only
Salut, lecteur !
J'avais envie d'inaugurer une nouvelle section ici, qui te permettra de commencer à comprendre l'humour délirant de l'irlandais moyen.
En effet, cet humour n'est pas forcément à la portée de tout-un-chacun. Déjà, il faut maîtriser l'anglais. Ah oui, je sais je te déçois lecteur, tu aurais aimé pouvoir lire du français. L'ennui c'est que ça serait de l'humour français alors, et ça.....ça n'existe pas on le sait...
Ensuite, il faut connaître son vocable populaire car sinon le moment ou il faut rire tu rateras. Et là, ça serait un peu la lose, quand même.
Bref, lecteur, devant ta mine exaspérée d'avoir à attendre pour lire une pauvre blague, I give to you....the first irish joke of a long series ! Enjoy (et parfais ton anglais par la même occasion, veux-tu)
J'avais envie d'inaugurer une nouvelle section ici, qui te permettra de commencer à comprendre l'humour délirant de l'irlandais moyen.
En effet, cet humour n'est pas forcément à la portée de tout-un-chacun. Déjà, il faut maîtriser l'anglais. Ah oui, je sais je te déçois lecteur, tu aurais aimé pouvoir lire du français. L'ennui c'est que ça serait de l'humour français alors, et ça.....ça n'existe pas on le sait...
Ensuite, il faut connaître son vocable populaire car sinon le moment ou il faut rire tu rateras. Et là, ça serait un peu la lose, quand même.
Bref, lecteur, devant ta mine exaspérée d'avoir à attendre pour lire une pauvre blague, I give to you....the first irish joke of a long series ! Enjoy (et parfais ton anglais par la même occasion, veux-tu)
IRISH LOVE STORY
An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite scones wafting up the stairs.
He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite scones.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Irish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in rumpled posture.
His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon ......
.........
.........
F**k off' she said, 'they're for the funeral.'
An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite scones wafting up the stairs.
He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite scones.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Irish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in rumpled posture.
His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon ......
.........
.........
F**k off' she said, 'they're for the funeral.'
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