Two men were sitting next to each other at Murphy’s Pub in London. After a while, one bloke looks at the other and says, “From listening to you I can’t help but think you’re from Ireland.”
The other bloke responds, “Yes, that I am!”
First guy says, “So am I. And were abouts might you be from?”
The second guy: “From Dublin.”
The first guy: “So am I! And what street you live on in Dublin?”
The second guy takes a gulp of his Guinness. It is not his first. “McCleary Street. The old central part of town. Lovely little area it was.”
The first guy takes a gulp of his Guinness. Also not his first. “Mother Mary and begorra. It’s a small world. So did I! And to what school would you have been going?”
The second guy: “I went to St. Mary’s, of course.”
The first guy pounds a fist onto the bar. “So did I. Tell me, what year did you graduate?”
The second guy told him.
The first guy: “The Good Lord must be smiling down upon us! Can you believe it, I graduated from St. Mary’s in 1984 my own self.”
Vicky, another regular, walks up to the bar and orders an Irish whisky.
Brian, the barman, walks over, shaking his head: “It’s going to be a long night. A long night.”
Vicky: “Why?”
Brian: “The Murphy twins are drunk again.”
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