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“I’m afraid not, Joe, that’s for the funeral.”
The two men had just reached the 10th hole when a funeral procession went slowly by. The first man stopped playing, took his hat off and bowed his head.
“That was very good of you,” said the second man.
“Well, it’s only right. We were married 27 years and she was a good wife to me,” he replied.
“You knew we were going out tonight, yet you spent even longer on the golf course today,” she yelled.
“I’m sorry, love, it couldn’t be helped,” replied her husband.
“Old Cyril dropped dead on the 11th hole so from then on in we played a hole, dragged Cyril, played a hole, dragged Cyril…”
On the death of her husband, Eva placed a notice in the local newspaper.
“Robert Percy, aged 62, died of VD on June 7, at 3pm.”
The next day, she met her friend in the street and her friend asked her, somewhat puzzled, “But Eva, I thought you told me he died of a bowel complaint?”
“He did,” she replied, “but I’d prefer people to remember him as a great lover rather than the little s.h.i.t he really was.”
“Oh doctor,” said the man as he regained consciousness, “tell me please, was the operation successful?”
“I’m sorry,” came the reply, “I’m not the doctor, I’m an angel.”
It was the funeral of John’s wife and he sat crying his eyes out in the front pew. He seemed inconsolable, so the Vicar decided to go over and have a word.
“I’m so sorry, John, I know this is a difficult time for you but the pain will eventually lessen. You’re still quite a young man and maybe you’ll meet someone else one day.”
John stopped sobbing and looked up at the Vicar.
“It’s alright for you to say that, Vicar,” he complained, “but where am I going to get a f.u.c.k tonight?”
Three nuns arrived at the Pearly Gates and each was asked a question before they were allowed to enter. The first nun was asked to name the first man.
“Adam,” she replied, and the gates opened for her.
The second nun was asked to name the first woman.
“Eve,” she replied, and again the gates opened.
Then a question was put to the third nun.
“What were the first words that Eve said to Adam?”
“Gosh! That is a hard one,” she replied, and once more the gates opened for her to go inside.
The finest batsman the county had ever had was killed in a bad car crash and one of the subst.i.tute cricketers thought it was time he showed what he could do.
“Listen, boss, how about me taking his place?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not sure,” replied the manager. “We’ll have to see what the undertakers say first.”
One of Ireland’s greatest footballers died and went to heaven where he was met by an angel at the Pearly Gates.
“Is there any reason why you think you should not be allowed in?” asked the angel.
The footballer thought for a moment and then replied, “Actually there was an international match that I played in, Ireland against England, and I purposefully fell over in the box so that we were awarded a penalty. It helped us to beat England 2-1.”
“Well, it’s not the most serious mistake I’ve ever heard so you may come in.”
“Oh that’s wonderful, I’ve always regretted that moment…
thank you so much, St Peter.”
“Think nothing of it,” said the angel.
“Oh, by the way, I’m not St Peter, it’s his day off, I’m St Patrick.”
An old couple, married for over 50 years, die within a week of each other and arrive in heaven at the same time.
Once the paperwork has been seen to, an angel escorts them to their new accommodation. After living in a small terraced cottage all their lives, the new house is like a palace. Set in two acres of land, it has its own swimming pool and a double garage with “his” and “hers” cars. The old man turns to his wife in astonishment and says, “Well, b.u.g.g.e.r me, Pam, if you hadn’t stopped us drinking and smoking, we’d have been enjoying all this years ago.”
On the day of Jack’s funeral, the undertakers took his coffin up to the church in a coach and four black horses. Now the church was at the top of a steep hill and suddenly, without warning, the doors of the coach flew open and the coffin careered back down the hill. By the time it reached the bottom, it was going a fair pace and smashed through the doors of the chemist shop, hitting the counter and bursting open.
“Aaargh,” screamed the a.s.sistant as Jack sat up and said, “Can you give me something to stop me coughing?”
Dawn’s husband had just been cremated, the mourners had gone home and she was left holding his ashes. She said to the ashes, “Well, Dave, I’ve got a few things to say to you.
See this fancy ring on my finger, the one I always wanted and the one you would never buy me? Well, I’ve bought it.
And you see this flashy leather handbag with matching shoes? You always promised, but never got round to it. Well, I’ve bought them too. She then tipped his ashes onto the ground and blew on them, saying scornfully, “So there you are, Dave, that’s the b.l.o.w. .j.o.b you always wanted and never got.”
“h.e.l.lo, John, how are you?” asked the barman. “How are you managing since your wife died?”
“Not too bad,” replied John, “the s.e.x is just the same, but the washing up clogs the sink.”
Two men lived next door to each other for over 20 years but they couldn’t have been more different. Sam was a model citizen, church every Sunday, a parish counsellor and a charity worker. Geoff was a drinker, gambler and a man for the ladies. Eventually Geoff died, he was quite young but the riotous life did him no favours. Then 15 years later, Sam pa.s.sed away and arrived in heaven where he was astonished to see his ex-next-door neighbour lounging on a cloud, a huge barrel of beer next to him and a naked lady sitting on his lap.
“Why, that’s outrageous!” exclaimed Sam. ‘I strive to be a good citizen on earth so that I might enjoy the fruits of heaven and when I get here I see Geoff. He should have been in h.e.l.l.”
“Oh he’s in h.e.l.l alright,” said the angel, “That beer barrel’s got a hole in it…and the woman hasn’t.”
The undertakers were having a very difficult time. They couldn’t get the coffin lid down on old Arthur because he’d died with a full erection. Eventually, they had to ring his wife and on hearing the problem, she told them to cut it off and stick it up his backside.
On the day of the funeral, Arthur’s wife took one more look at her dead husband before he was taken away and she noticed a pained expression on his face. She whispered, “That’ll teach you, you old sod, you should have believed me when I said it hurt.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to bid farewell to our departed neighbour, old Bob Flowers. Is there anyone in the congregation who would like to say a few nice words about him?” asked the vicar.
But there was silence.
“Come on now, don’t be shy, someone must remember something good about him.”
Still no response.
“Please, someone say something,” pleaded the hara.s.sed vicar. All of a sudden, a voice was heard at the back of the church.
“His brother was worse.”
Flo is devastated when her husband dies so her friends eventually persuade her to see a spiritualist so that she can get in touch with him again. All goes according to plan and her late husband is contacted.
“Are you alright, Martin? What do you get up to all day?”
“h.e.l.lo, Flo. Yes, I’m okay. Well I wake up in the morning, go for a swim, have something to eat, make love to some of the girls, have another swim, eat more food and then have a snooze.”
“My goodness,” says Flo, “you’ve changed a bit, you never did those sort of things down here.”
“No, but I wasn’t a duck then.”
A very successful businessman was lying on his death bed.
Just before the end he whispered, “Cheryl, are you there?”
“Yes, Jack, I’m here.”
“Tom, are you there?”
“Yes, dad, I’m here.”
“Richard, are you there?”
“Yes, dad,” he sobbed. “I’m here.”
Suddenly Jack jerked himself up and shouted angrily, “So who’s minding the f.u.c.king business then?”
An old woman had been going to the same doctor for over 50 years and during that time had made his life a living h.e.l.l by constantly complaining about one thing after another.
Eventually, however, she died and was buried in the local churchyard, but it was less than a month later that the doctor also died and was buried in the next plot to her. For a few minutes after the mourners had gone all was quiet and then the doctor heard tapping on the side of his coffin.
“What is it now, Mrs Mowner?” he signed.
“Can you give me something for worms, doctor?”
It was the funeral of Big John Nowall, the most arrogant man in the district. As his coffin pa.s.sed into the church, one of the spectators turned to the other and said, “I can’t believe Big John’s in there, the coffin looks so small.”
“Oh that’s easy to explain,” came the reply, “once they let all the bulls.h.i.t out of him, he fitted perfectly.”
Asked to identify her missing husband, Beryl went along to the morgue but on pulling back the sheet she shook her head sadly. “No, that’s not him,” she said, looking at the man’s sizeable parts, “but some poor woman’s lost a good friend.”
Two Scotsmen are talking in the pub and one turns to the other, saying, “Now, Mick, if I should die first, will you pour a bottle of the finest malt whisky over my grave?”
“That I will,” says Jock, “but do you mind if it goes through my kidneys first?”
One evening, there was a knock on the O’Flannagans’ door.
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