he Banking Crisis simply explained...
Paddy bought a donkey from a farmer for £100.
The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day...
The next day he drove up and said, 'Sorry son, but I have some bad news. The donkey's died.'
Paddy replied, 'Well then just give me my money back.'
The farmer said, 'Can't do that. I've already spent it.'
Paddy said, 'OK, then, just bring me the dead donkey.'
The farmer asked, 'What are you going to do with him?'
Paddy said, 'I'm going to raffle him off.'
The farmer said, 'You can't raffle a dead donkey!'
Paddy said, 'Sure I can. Watch me. I just won't tell anybody he's dead.'
A month later, the farmer met up with Paddy and asked, 'What happened with that dead donkey?'
Paddy said, 'I raffled him off.
I sold 500 tickets at two pounds a piece and made a profit of £898'
The farmer said, 'Didn't anyone complain?'
Paddy said, 'Just the guy who won.
So I gave him his two pounds back.'
Paddy now works for NAMA
Tir na nog
It is a slow day in a damp little Irish town. The rain is beating down and the streets are deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit. On this particular day a rich German tourist is driving through the town, stops at the local hotel and lays a €100 note on the desk, telling the hotel owner he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one to spend the night. The owner gives him some keys and, as soon as the visitor has walked upstairs, the hotelier grabs the €100 note and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher. The butcher takes the €100 note and runs down the street to repay his debt to the pig farmer. The pig farmer takes the €100 note and heads off to pay his bill at the supplier of feed and fuel. The guy at the Farmers' Co-op takes the €100 note and runs to pay his drinks bill at the pub. The publican slips the money along to the local prostitute drinking at the bar, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer him "services" on credit. The hooker then rushes to the hotel and pays off her room bill to the hotel owner with the €100 note. The hotel proprietor then places the €100 note back on the counter so the rich traveler will not suspect anything. At that moment the traveler comes down the stairs, picks up the €100 note, states that the rooms are not satisfactory, pockets the money, and leaves town. No one produced anything. No one earned anything. However, the whole town is now out of debt and looking to the future with a lot more optimism. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how the bailout package works.
Ah girls they are Brilliant
Tir na nog
Over five thousand years ago, Moses said to the children of
Israel "pick up your shovel, mount your asses and camels, and I will
lead you to the Promised Land".
Nearly 10 years ago, Bertie the bollix said, " Lay down your
shovels, sit on your asses, and light up a camel, this is the Promised
Now Brian Cowen has stolen your shovel, taxed your asses, raised
the price of camels, and mortgaged the Promised Land.
I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, NAMA,
lost jobs, bank bailouts, higher taxes, negative equity, etc . . .
I called the suicide help line.
I got a call centre in Pakistan. I told them I was suicidal.
They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck...
Tir na nog
i have another one which may offend some people will i post it??
post it post it!
Tir na nog
Sorry if any offence was caused.
Tir na nog
A WOMAN'S WEEK AT THE GYM
> If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong
> with you This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a
> regular workout routine.
> Dear Diary,
> For my birthday this year, I purchased a week of personal training at
> the local health club.
> Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football
> cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead
> and give it a try.
> I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named
> Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and
> model for athletic clothing and swim wear.
> Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club
> encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
> Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was
> well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting
> for me.
> He is something of a Greek god-- with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a
> dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!
> Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines... I enjoyed watching
> the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my
> workout today. Very inspiring!
> Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already
> aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to
> be a FANTASTIC week!!
> I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.
> Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air
> then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the
> treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all
> worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It's a whole new life for me.
> The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the
> counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a
> hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to
> steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.
> Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other
> club members.. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the
> morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY
> My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the
> stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate
> an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would
> help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too..
> Butt hole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his
> thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help
> being a half an hour late-- it took me that long to tie my shoes.
> He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran
> and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny witch to find me.
> Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine-- which I sank.
> I hate that jackass Christo more than any human being has ever hated any
> other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic,
> anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I
> could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.
> Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And
> if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the darn barbells or
> anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
> The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition
> Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the
> choir director?
> Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly
> voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice
> made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the
> strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight
> hours of the Weather Channel..
> I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and
> thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my
> husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canal or a
> hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would
> have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!