There is a story about the Irishman who drowned while he was digging a grave for a friend. He’d wanted to be buried at sea.
“Well, Mrs. O’Connor, so you want a divorce?” the solicitor questioned his client.
“Tell me about it. Do you have a grudge?”
“Oh, no,” replied Mrs. O’Connor. “Shure now, we have a carport.”
The solicitor tried again. “Well, does the man beat you up?”
“No, no,” said Mrs. O’Connor, looking puzzled. “Oi’m always first out of bed.”
Still hopeful, the solicitor tried once again.
“What I’m trying to find out are what grounds you have.”
“Bless ye, sor. We live in a flat – not even a window box, let alone grounds.”
“Mrs. O’Connor,” the solicitor said in considerable exasperation, “you need a reason that the court can consider.
“What is the reason for you seeking this divorce?”
“Ah, well now,” said the lady,
“Shure it’s because the man can’t hold an intelligent conversation.”
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Humor about the Irishmen