So did you hear Ms. Murphy was taking French cooking lessons? And she told Murphy, "I want you to go away downtown and buy a nice baguette of French bread, a good bottle of wine (the kind with the cork in it, not the screw on cap like you normally get), and some escargot, and I want you back here at 5:00 because I want dinner on the table by 6."
Murphy looked at the clock and saw that it was 4:00 so he rushed off downtown and bought a skinny loaf of french bread, a bottle of wine, and some big old juicy snails, and started heading home, but poor old Murphy suffered from an awful Irish ailment: alcoholic constipation -- he couldn't pass a bar room.
So he goes inside, and the first one he sees is his friend O'Brien. And O'Brien says, "How's the wife?" And Murphy says, "Ah, she's an angel." And O'Brien says, "You're lucky, mine's still alive." They order a few drinks and O'Brien says, "So did you hear the Americans have sent another crew to the space station?" And Murphy says, "That's nothing, Ireland has a space program. We're sending a man to the sun." "Don't be ridiculous," O'Brien says, "if a spaceship ever got within a million miles of the sun, it would burn up, evaporate and disappear." And Murphy says, "Aha, we're sending it up at night."
Murphy overhears a couple fellas at the bar he doesn't recognize, and he's local, and he's very curious, and he decides to listen in.
1: Oh you have a lovely accent, where're you from?
2: I'm from Ireland!
1: I'm from Ireland, too. Let me buy you a point of Guinness.
So he buys him one.
2: So, uh, where in Ireland are you from?
1: I'm from County Cork.
2: I'm from County Cork, too! Let me buy you a pint of Guinness.
So he buys him one.
1: So where in County Cork are you from?
2: Why, I'm from Cork City.
1: That's amazing, I was born in Cork City meself, let me buy you a Bushmill's whisky.
So he buys him one.
2: Well, where in Cork City are you from?
1: I'm from Grand Street.
2: That is absolutely astounding, I was born and raised in Grand Street meself, let me buy you a Bushmill's.
So there they are buying each other Bushmills and Guinnesses, clapping each other on the back, and Murphy turns to the bartender and says, "What the hell's going on here?" And the bartender says, "Ah, it's just the Shaughnessy twins, they're drunk again."
Well, Murphy has a few Bushmills and Guinnesses himself, and decides to head home. And he looks at the clock and sees that it's 10:00 at night! Panic stricken, he was supposed to be home five hours ago!
So he rushes off, and on the way home he sees a man tinkering under the hood of his car. "What's the problem?" The man replies, "Piston broke." "Yeah," Murphy says, "me too."
Murphy's most of the way home, and he's passing the church and decides to make a quick stop. And the priest is inside, and he sees Murphy throw open the doors, fall into the aisle, crawl to a confessional and collapse, and thinks the young man might be in need of some spiritual assistance. So he goes into the confessional, pulls back the little window (remember?), and says, "May I help you my son?" And Murphy says, "Yeah, have you got any paper on your side?"
Well, Murphy gets out of there in one piece, and he's just about to turn the corner to his home, when he peeks around and sees the wife on the doorstep with the arms folded and the foot tapping, and he says, "Oh my god, she's going to kill me. What am I going to do?"
And he gets a great idea! He takes the bag of snails, and dumps them on the ground in front of them, and starts walking behind them, yelling, "Come on lads, we're almost there!"
(I learned this from Seamus Kennedy about 20 years ago.)