A Trip to Heaven
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal and says to the first man he meets, “Do you want to go to Heaven?”
The man said, “I do, Father.”
The priest said, “Then stand over there against the wall.”
The priest asked the second man, “Do you want to go to Heaven?”
“Certainly, Father,” was the man’s reply.
“Then stand over there against the wall,” said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O’Toole and said, “Do you want to go to Heaven?” O’Toole said, “No, I don’t Father.”
The priest said, “I don’t believe this. You mean to tell me that when you die, you don’t want to go to Heaven?”
O’Toole said, “Oh, when I die, yes. I thought you were getting a group together to go right now.”
A young man came home from the office and found his bride sobbing convulsively. “I feel terrible,” she told him. “I was pressing your suit and I burned a big hole in the seat of your trousers.”
“Forget it,” consoled her husband. “Remember that I’ve got an extra pair of pants for that suit.”
“Yes, and it’s lucky you have,” said the woman, drying her eyes. “I used them to patch the hole.”
I called the local newspaper’s classified section to complain about an ad I’d placed. It was obvious the person who took my information had never spent any time on a farm.
“I said ‘ewes,'” I argued.
“Pardon?” replied the operator.
“Ewes. It makes a difference to some people.”
The ad had read, “Sheep for sale: Used.”