Gettin' ready for St. Paddy . . .

Thanks to Doug for this. Ms. Conroy was not amused. She reminded me of the sage wisdom that God created whiskey to keep the Irish from ruling the world.

Ten days off from Purgatory for anyone who can translate the above from Gaelic to English.

Jacques Chirac is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.

"Hallo, Mr. Chirac!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Clare, Ireland. I am ringin' to inform ya that we have officially declaring war on ya!"

"Well, Paddy," Chirac replied, "This is indeed important news, and I'm glad you had the courtesy to notify me! How big is your army?"

"Right at this very moment," says Paddy, "there is meself, me cousin Sean, me next door neighbor also named Paddy, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"

Chirac paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100,000 men in my army with their fingers on their triggers, waiting to move on my command."

"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back."

Sure enough, the next afternoon, Paddy calls again. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"

"And what equipment is that, Paddy?" Chirac asks.

"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor. If you count Murphy's cow, we have cavalry, too."

Chirac sighs, amused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I have increased my army to 150,000 since we last spoke."

"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."

Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day. "Mr. Chirac, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar across the street have joined us as well!"

Chirac was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat.

"I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100 bombers and 200 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I have increased my army to 200,000!"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" foams Paddy, "I will have to ring you back."

Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day with a different tone to his voice.

"Top o' the mornin', Mr. Chirac! I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."

"Really? I am sorry to hear that," says Chirac. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well," says Paddy, "we boys had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and after about hearing how much ye've added to yer army, we decided there is no fookin' way we can feed 200,000 prisoners!"