AnyMal
Lifer
An Irishman named Patty Murphy went to Dr. O' Conner after a long illness.
The doctor, after a thorough examination, sighed and looked Murphy in the
eye and said, "I've some bad news for you. You have cancer and it can't be
cured. You have less than a month to live. You best be preparing for what
lies before you."
Murphy, shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid character, managed to
compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting
room.There he saw his son, who had been waiting.
Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and we celebrate
when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I have
cancer and I've been given a short time to live. Let's be off to the pub and
have a few pints."
After three or four pints, the two were feeling a little less somber. There
were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of
Murphy's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. Murphy told
them ho the Irish celebrate both the good and the bad. He went on to tell
them that they were drinking to his impending end.
He told his friends: "I've only got a few weeks to live as I have been
diagnosed with AIDS."
The friends, quite shocked, gave Murphy their condolences and they had a
couple more beers.
After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and whispered his
confusion. "Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer?
Murphy nodded, "Yes, my son, I am dying from cancer."
"Then," asked the son, "how come you just told your friends that you were
dying from AIDS?"
Murphy smiled, "It's just I don't want any of my friends sleeping with your
mother after I'm gone."
The doctor, after a thorough examination, sighed and looked Murphy in the
eye and said, "I've some bad news for you. You have cancer and it can't be
cured. You have less than a month to live. You best be preparing for what
lies before you."
Murphy, shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid character, managed to
compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting
room.There he saw his son, who had been waiting.
Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and we celebrate
when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I have
cancer and I've been given a short time to live. Let's be off to the pub and
have a few pints."
After three or four pints, the two were feeling a little less somber. There
were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of
Murphy's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. Murphy told
them ho the Irish celebrate both the good and the bad. He went on to tell
them that they were drinking to his impending end.
He told his friends: "I've only got a few weeks to live as I have been
diagnosed with AIDS."
The friends, quite shocked, gave Murphy their condolences and they had a
couple more beers.
After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and whispered his
confusion. "Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer?
Murphy nodded, "Yes, my son, I am dying from cancer."
"Then," asked the son, "how come you just told your friends that you were
dying from AIDS?"
Murphy smiled, "It's just I don't want any of my friends sleeping with your
mother after I'm gone."
