Irish vs. French War
Jacques Chirac, The French President, 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 ringing to inform you
that we are officially declaring war on ya!"
"Well, Paddy," Chirac replied, "This is indeed important news! How big
is your army?"
"Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is meself,
me Cousin Sean, me next door neighbor Seamus, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Chirac paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100,000 m en in my
army waiting to move on my command."
"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring ya back.
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy calls again. "Mr. Chirac, the war is
still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be Paddy?" Chirac asks.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Marphy's farm tractor."
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 ya."
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 have joined us a s 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!" says Paddy, "I will have to ring ya back."
Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day. "Top o' the mornin', Mr.
Chirac! I am sorry to inform ya 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 had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness and
finally decided there is no fookin' way we can feed 200,000 French
prisoners."