WAR BETWEEN IRELAND AND FRANCE NARROWLY AVERTED!
Jacques Chirac, the French President, was sitting in his office wondering what kind of mischief he could perpetrate next when his telephone rang.
"Hallo, Mr. Chirac!", a heavily accented voice said. "Tis meself Michael down at the Harp Pub in County Offlay, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!" The sound of the drums and pipe whistle could be heard in the pub's background.
"Well, Michael," a bemused Chirac replied, "this is indeed grave news! How big is your army?"
"Right now," said Michael, after a moment's calculation and a sip, "there is meself, me cousin Sean, me next door neighbor Seamus, and the entire dart team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Chirac paused, to let his meaning sink in, "I must tell you, Michael, that I have one hundred thousand men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begorra!" roared Michael. "I'll have to ring you back!"
Sure enough, the next day, Michael called again. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be, Michael?" an irritated Chirac asked.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Chirac sighed, and decided to end this farce, "I must tell you, Michael, that I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I've increased my army to one hundred fifty thousand men since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" said Michael. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Michael rang again the next day. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on!" We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We've modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four lads from the Shamrock Pub have joined us as well!"
Chirac was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you that I have 100 bombers and 200 fighter planes. My military complex is surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I've increased my army strength to two hundred thousand men!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!", cried Michael, "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, a cheery Michael called again the next day. "Top o' the mornin', Mr.Chirac! I am sorry to tell you that we have had to call off the war."
"I'm sorry to hear that." said Chirac, his voice dripping with sarcarsm. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," said Michael, "we've all had a long chat over a bunch of pints, and decided there's no foo-kin way we can feed two hundred thousand prisoners."
Thursday, 17 March 2005
Happy St Patrick's Day
Thanks to Timebomb 2000 for this one: