“In seven weeks time it will be almost over for another year”, said Mikey Ryan, “and only God knows if we will ever see another one in this life”
We were above in the Arch Bar on Liberty Square, which recently took Gold in Radio TippFm’s Best of Tipp Awards; each enjoying our usual Saturday night tipple.
“Another what”, says I.
“Christmas”, said Mikey, before continuing; “You know I had a dream last night. I dreamed that 3 Tipperary men died last Christmas eve. One was from the village of Littleton, one from nearby Two-Mile-Borris and the third was from here in Thurles town”.
“I think you need to stay off that Cashel Blue cheese and fresh crusty bread last thing at night”, said I.
“No let me finish”, said Mikey. “The other apostles had taken the night off and St. Peter was alone, supervising in person at the Pearly Gate. He informed the 3 Tipperary men, queued in single file, that to get into heaven on Christmas Eve, they must have something on their person that represented the Christmas season, otherwise they would end up in that ‘fiery lake of burning sulphur’, better known as Hell.”
The 3 men looked at each other, before the Littleton man flicks his cigarette lighter and says: “Peter this is a Christmas candle”. St. Peter lets him pass without further questions.
The Two-Mile-Borris man jingles his bunch of keys stating, “Peter these are jingle bells”.
St. Peter nods and again lets him pass without further questions.
The Thurles man steps up to the gate and pulls a woman’s black brassière out of his inside jacket pocket.
St. Peter asks, “What in the name of all things good and holy has that bra got to do with Christmas?”
“These are Carols”, replies the Thurles man.
“Go away out of that”, said I, “I thought you were being serious. Give us the same again there Pat.”
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