Paddy's pregnant sister was in a terrible car accident and went into a deep coma. After being in the coma for nearly six months, she wakes up and sees that she is no longer pregnant. Frantically, she asks the doctor about her baby.
The doctor replies, 'Ma'am, you had twins; a boy and a girl! The babies are fine now, but they were poorly at birth and had to be christened immediately. Your brother came in and named them.'
The woman thinks to herself, 'Oh suffering Jesus no, not mi' brother! He's a bloody clueless ignoramus!' Expecting the worst, she asks the doctor, 'Well, what's my daughter's name?'
'Denise,' says the doctor. The new mother is totally relieved.
'Wow, that's a beautiful name. I guess I was wrong about my brother. I like Denise.' Then she asks, 'What's the boy's name?'
In the days of the Wild West, there was a young cowboy who wanted more than anything to be the greatest gunfighter in the world. He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn't yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong. Sitting in a saloon one Saturday night, he recognized an elderly man seated at the bar who had the reputation of being the fastest gun in the West in his day. The young cowboy took a seat next to the old-timer, bought him a drink, and told him the story of his great ambition. "Do you think you could give me some tips?" he asked. The old man looked him up and down and said, "Well, for one thing, you're wearing your gun too high. Tie the holster a little lower down on your leg." "Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man. "Sure will," said the old-timer. The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his 44 and shot the bow tie off the piano player. "That's terrific!" said the cowboy. "Got any more tips for me?" "Yep," said the old man. "Cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it. That'll give you a smoother draw." "Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the younger man. "You bet it will," said the old-timer. The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, then shot a cufflink off the piano player. "Wow!" said the cowboy. "I'm learnin' somethin' here. Got any more tips?" The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. "See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it." The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun. "No," said the old-timer, "I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all." "Will that make me a better gunfighter?" asked the young man. "No," said the old-timer, "but when Wyatt Earp gets done playin' the piano, he's going to shove that gun up your ass and it won't hurt as much."