Irish
An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints
of Guinness and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip
out of each one in turn.
When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders
three more.
The bartender approaches and tells him, "You know, a pints
goes flat after I draw it, would taste better if you bought
one at a time."
The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers.
One is in America, the other is in Australia, and I'm in
Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we'd drink
this way to remember the days we drank together. So I drink
one for each o'me brothers and one for me self."
The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves
it there. The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and
always drinks the same way: He orders three pints and drinks
them in turn.
One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other
regulars take notice and fall silent.
When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the
bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but
I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss."
The Irishman looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light
dawns in his eye and he laughs. "Oh, no, everybody's just
fine," He explains. "It's just that me wife had us join
that Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking.
Hasn't affected me brothers though
