Dear Mom,

Ireland is beautiful. We're about to land and all I can see is green. It's

so neat to be able to relax in the land of our forfathers before we go to

purge the great evil. All the guys are so excited. I hope we get a chance

to see a leprechaun and ride on a cart. There's nothing but fields below

us. Nothing except a warehouse. Odd.


Dear Mom,

The warehouse turned out to be the airport. At least I think it's an

airport. We landed there, so I guess it has something to do with planes,

but it just looked like a mall to me. We trooped in and were told that we

had to stay in the duty-free shop for 16 hours. Apparently it's an olde

Irish tradition. Now we have no money. I do have a drum with Guinness

written on it. In fact everything I own now has Guinness written on it.

I'm frightened. Still, here's to the leprechauns.


Dear Mom,

Awful news. An Al-Qa'ida faction attacked our plane. They've even

penetrated the Emerald Isle. We'd never heard of the faction before, but

according to the guy in the duty-free shop they're called Gob-Shi'ites. (By

the way, I hope you like the Guinness scarf, I had to buy it to get info out

of him. Tradition, apparently.) Marine intelligence is investigating the

Gob-shi'ites. The General believes they must be a well organised sect to

penetrate all of the security of a major airport. Plus this is Ireland's

main defensive airport. The guy in the duty-free says they built it in the

middle of nowhere for "strategic" reasons. (I hope you like the Guinness

comb.)


Dear Mom,

Great news. I've met the finest soldiers in the world. The Irish Army

arrived to protect us. We're all so relieved. They show no fear. It's

like nothing can scare them. It's like they're taunting the Gob-shi'ites.

Their equipment looks so crappy and old. It must be a trick.


Dear Mom,

The ordeal is over. We ship out today. Four of the guys are heading back

to the States on a Psychiatric discharge, and we've had to get another

transport plane to bring the traditional duty-free. But we're out alive.

The Gulf will be such a relief.

Atthe dole office in Castlebar a Traveller walkedin to pick up his cheque.

He marched straight up to the counter and said, ' How's it going Boss, You know,I just HATE drawing the dole. I'd like to get a job!'

The social worker behind the counter said, ' Your timing is excellent. We just gota job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur and bodyguard for hisbeautiful daughter.
You'll have to drive around in his 2008 Mercedes-Benz CL, and he will supply all of your clothes.
Because of the long hours, meals will be provided.
You'll also be expected to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips.
This is rather awkward to say but you will also have, as part of your job assignment to satisfyher sexual urges as the daughter is in her mid-20's and has a rather strong sex drive.
A two-bedroom loft type apartment with plasma TV, stereo, bar, etc located above the garage, willbe designated for your sole use and the salary is €200,000 a year.'

The traveller just plain wide-eyed, said, ' You're bull$h!ttin' me!'

The social welfare worker said, ' Yeah, well . . You started it!’

DO YOU FART IN BED?
IF THIS STORY DOESN'T MAKE YOU CRY FOR LAUGHING
SO HARD, LET ME KNOW AND

I'LL PRAY FOR YOU.

THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A COUPLE WHO HAD BEEN
HAPPILY MARRIED FOR YEARS.

THE ONLY FRICTION IN THEIR MARRIAGE WAS THE
HUSBAND'S HABIT OF FARTING
LOUDLY EVERY MORNING WHEN HE AWOKE. THE NOISE
WOULD WAKE HIS WIFE AND



THE SMELL WOULD MAKE HER EYES WATER AND MAKE HER GASP
FOR AIR. EVERY MORNING

SHE WOULD PLEAD WITH HIM TO STOP RIPPING THEM OFF
BECAUSE IT WAS MAKING HER SICK. HE TOLD HER HE COULDN'T STOP IT AND THAT IT
WAS PERFECTLY NATURAL. SHE TOLD HIM TO SEE A DOCTOR, SHE WAS CONCERNED THAT
ONE DAY HE WOULD BLOW HIS GUTS OUT.



THE YEARS WENT BY AND HE CONTINUED TO RIP THEM OUT. THEN ONE THANKSGIVING MORNING AS SHE WAS PREPARING THE TURKEY FOR DINNER AND HE WAS UPSTAIRS SOUND ASLEEP, SHE LOOKED AT THE INNARDS AND NECK, GIZZARD, LIVER AND ALL THE SPARE PARTS AND A MALICIOUS THOUGHT CAME TO HER. SHE TOOK THE BOWL AND WENT UPSTAIRS WHERE HER HUSBAND WAS SOUND ASLEEP AND, GENTLY PULLING THE BED COVERS BACK, SHE PULLED BACK THE ELASTIC
WAISTBAND OF HIS UNDERPANTS AND EMPTIED THE BOWL OF TURKEY GUTS INTO HIS
SHORTS.

SOME TIME LATER SHE HEARD HER HUSBAND WAKEN WITH HIS USUAL TRUMPETING WHICH
WAS FOLLOWED BY A BLOOD CURDLING SCREAM AND THE SOUND OF FRANTIC
FOOTSTEPS AS HE RAN INTO THE BATH ROOM. THE WIFE COULD HARDLY CONTROL HERSELF AS
SHE ROLLED ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING, TEARS IN HER EYES!





AFTER YEARS OF TORTURE SHE RECKONED SHE HAD GOT HIM BACK PRETTY GOOD.
ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES LATER, HER HUSBAND CAME DOWSTAIRS IN HIS BLOODSTAINED UNDERPANTS WITH A LOOK OF HORROR ON HIS FACE. SHE BIT HER LIP
AS SHE ASKED HIM WHAT WAS THE MATTER.
HE SAID, "HONEY YOU WERE RIGHT." "ALL THESE YEARS YOU HAVE WARNED ME AND I DIDN'T LISTEN TO YOU".

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" ASKED HIS WIFE.

"WELL, YOU ALWAYS TOLD ME THAT ONE DAY I WOULD END UP FARTING MY GUTS OUT, AND TODAY IT FINALLY HAPPENED." BUT BY THE GRACE OF GOD, SOME VASELINE AND TWO FINGERS. I THINK I GOT MOST OF THEM BACK IN."