Kelly Jokes

METAPHYSICAL MENU... The main course at the big civic dinner was baked ham with glazed sweet potatoes.

Rabbi Cohen regretfully shook his head when the platter was passed to him.' When,' scolded Father Kelly playfully,' are you going to forget that silly rule of yours and eat ham like the rest of us?' Without skipping a beat, Rabbi Cohen replied:' At your wedding reception, Father Kelly.'

CLASSIFIED ERRORS, from a small-town daily: (Monday) FORE SALE - R. D. Jones has one sewing machine for sale. Phone 555-0707 after 7 p.m. and ask for Mrs. Kelly who lives with him cheap. (Tuesday) NOTICE - We regret having erred in R. D. Jone's ad yesterday. It should have read: One sewing machine for sale. Cheap: 555-0707 and ask for Mrs. Kelly who lives with him after 7 p.m. (Wednesday) NOTICE - R. D. Jones has informed us that he has received several annoying telephone calls because of the error we made in his classified ad yesterday. His ad stands corrected as follows: FOR SALE - R. D. Jones has one sewing machine for sale. Cheap. Phone 555-0707 and ask Mrs. Kelly who loves with him. (Thursday) NOTICE - I, R. D. Jones, have NO sewing machine for sale. I SMASHED IT. Don't call 555-0707, as the telephone has been disconnected. I have NOT been carrying on with Mrs. Kelly. Until yesterday she was my housekeeper, but she quit."

It's Christmas Eve. Kelly walks into a bar and orders beer and a shot of whiskey. The bartender gives him a beer and a shot of whiskey. Kelly drinks his beer and pours the shot of whiskey into his shirt pocket. Kelly orders another beer and another shot of whiskey. Kelly drinks the beer and pours the shot of whiskey into his pocket. The bartender says, "Look, Mac, it's Christmas Eve, and I know we're both depressed, and I certainly don't mean to bug you, but my curiosity is *killing* me. Why do you keep pouring the shots in your pocket?" Kelly says, "It's none of your damn business! And if you be givin' me a hard time, I'll be breakin yer face!" A mouse pops out of Kelly's shirt pocket and says, "And that goes for your stupid *cat*, too!"

"My God! What happened to you?" the bartender asked Kelly as he hobbled in on a crutch, one arm in a cast.
"I got in a tiff with Riley."
"Riley? He's just a wee fellow," the barkeep said, surprised. "He must have had something in his hand."
"Aye, that he did," Kelly said. "A shovel it was."
"Dear Lord! Didn't you have anything in YOUR hand?"
"Aye, that I did - Mrs. Riley." Kelly said. "She gave me her purse, but it wasn't much use in a fight!"

"My god! What happened to you?" the bartender asked Kelly as he hobbled in on a crutch, one arm in a cast.
"I got in a tiff with Riley."
"Riley? He's just a wee fellow," the barkeep said, surprised. "He must have had something in his hand."
"That he did," Kelly said. "A shovel it was."
"Dear Lord. Didn't you have anything in your hand?"
"Aye, that I did - Mrs. Riley's tit." Kelly said. "And a beautiful thing it was, but not much use in a fight."