Island Ireland is an Internet guide to Irish art, culture and environment. An Irish man shows up in a pub one day and orders three pints of Guinness. He takes sips from each glass until they are empty and calls the bartender for three more. The bartender says, ‘Sure it’s up to yourself, but wouldn’t you rather I was bringing them one at a time? Then they’ll be fresh and cold. Nah’ your man says, ‘ I’m preferrin’ that ye bring ’em three at a time. Well,’ says the bartender, ‘that’s a grand thing to do, all right. I’ll bring the pints as you ask. Well, time goes on and your man’s peculiar habit is known and accepted by all the pub regulars. One day though, he comes in and orders only two pints.
A hush falls over the pub. Naturally, everyone figures something happened to one of the brothers. A group of the regulars corner the bartender and finally persuade him to find out what happened. The Irish man looks extremely puzzled for a moment, and then starts laughing. An Irish man has been at a pub all night drinking. The bartender finally says that the bar is closed. So your man stands up to leave and falls flat on his face.
He figures he’ll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up. Once outside he stands up but again falls flat on his face. Reaching the door he tries to stand up, and yet again, falls flat on his face. He tumbles into bed and is soon sound asleep, only to awaken the next morning to the sound of his wife standing over him shouting. So you’ve been out drinking again! The pub called– you left your damn wheelchair down there again! An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scotsman go into a pub.
Each orders a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and land– one, two, three– in each of the pints. The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another the Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow. The Irishman reaches in to the glass, grabs the fly between his fingers and shakes him as hard as he can, shouting ‘Spit it out, ya bloody bastard! Nollaig faoi shéan is faoi shonas duit. A prosperous and happy Christmas to you. May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch on your door, and happiness be guided to your home by the candle of Christmas.
Go mbeire muid beo ar an am seo arís. May we be alive at this time next year. In the New Year, may your right hand always be stretched out in friendship but never in want. And see all those snakes again. Sliocht sleachta ar shliocht bhur sleachta. May there be a generation of children on the children of your children. Health and long life to you, land without rent to you, a child every year to you, and death in Old Ireland. And those gathered beneath it never fall out. Here’s to health, peace and prosperity.