Paddy had been drinking at his local pub all day and most of the night, celebrating
St.PatrickÛªs Day.
Mick, the bartender says, Û÷YouÛªll not be drinking anymore tonight, PaddyÛª.
Paddy replies, Û÷OK Mick, IÛªll be on my way thenÛª. Paddy spins around on his stool and
steps off. He falls flat on his face.
Û÷DamnÛª he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off.
He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face, Û÷oh bloody damn!Ûª
He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door
and some fresh air heÛªll be fine.
He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head
outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out
onto the sidewalk and falls flat on his face.
Û÷BiÛª JesusÛ? IÛªm in bloody trouble,Ûª he says.
He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls himself
up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside.
He takes a look up the stairs and says Û÷No bloody way....Ûª
He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says Û÷I can make it to the bedÛª.
He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face. He says Û÷damn itÛª and falls into bed.
The next morning,his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says,
Û÷Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night ?Ûª
Paddy says, Û÷I did, Jess. I was bloody pissed. But how did you know?Ûª
Û÷Mick phoned .. . . You left your wheelchair at the pub.Ûª
WOOF! Good one. Especially since I'll be spending tomorrow afternoon at my favourite pub for a few rounds.
This actually reminds me of when I used to go drinking with a friend of mine. He was born without the bottom half of his legs. Stopped just above the knees. But no problems, he'd wheel right into the bar with the rest of us, climb up onto the stool, and drink.
One one particular outing, I believe it was his birthday, we were getting ready to leave and so I got his chair and wheeled it over by his stool, he dropped down onto it and promptly shouted "Oh shit, that hurt! I think I twisted my ankle!" I looked at him to see if he was alright, then I realized what he said. I called him a few choice names and we all had a good laugh. So we headed out the door, to go to the next bar, of course, and when we got outside, he said, "You know, I think I'm pretty drunk already. I can't feel my legs past the knees!"
He was definitely a wise-arse.
