The Irish

OK so I am trying to be better about blogging, not gotten to the house yet! Something occurred to me Sat evening while I was in Party City, a lady was talking to the guy behind the counter (as she was purchasing some St. Paddy's day things) about how she was part Irish, it has always amused me how American's really celebrate this holiday, I don't ever really remember thinking about it when I was back in England, maybe it was an excuse to go drinking at the pub but as that was never my scene maybe I missed out on it all. Anyway, back to my pondering's, what I mostly remember about the Irish growing up was making fun of them, we would tell these Englishman, Irishman, Scottishman jokes, they go a little something like this:

An Englishman, a Scotsman and an Irishman were without tickets for the opening ceremonies of the summer Olympics but hoped to be able to talk their way in at the gate. Security was very tight, however, and each of their attempts was met with a stern refusal. While wandering around outside the stadium, the Englishman came upon construction site, which gave him an idea. Grabbing a length of scaffolding, he presented himself at the gate and said, "Johnson, the pole vault," and was admitted. The Scotsman, overhearing this, went at once to search the site. When he came up with a sledge hammer, he presented himself at the gate and said, "McTavish, the hammer." He was also admitted. The Irishman combed the site for an hour and was nearly ready to give up when he spotted his ticket in. Seizing a roll of barbed wire, he presented himself at the gate and announced, "O'Sullivan, fencing."