A few decades ago (OMG!!), I had been rocked to tears with laughter at the outrageously funny humour of this delightful man.
When I was telling my Irish friend about him, adding that he did the best Irish accent I had ever heard, I received a withering glance any gorgon would be proud of.
With great distain I was informed that of course he did - he was Irish - apparently he did the best English accent I had ever heard.
And so began my greater appreciation of this witty and talented man.
The one short story that was part of another was how much he enjoyed the Saturday afternoon movies where kids enjoyed a double feature - half price.
And that you could always tell what was playing by the way the kids exited the theatre - straight-legged and -armed for zombies , pretend capes flung across faces for Dracula, and sword slashing for Zorro. After a bit of a pause he went on to include cowboys and Indians, shooting up the air with invisible guns. At which point he looked down at his hand where part of one finger was missing and added "Not me though. I had a sawed-off shotgun !!"
At which the audience just howled .
The other story was about three priests meeting and talking on a train.
After chatting awhile, they started exchanging confidences.
The first priest admitted to being a terrible womanizer and that, once a year, every year, he overindulged in fleshly pleasures for an entire weekend and then, for the rest of the year sinned no more.
The second priest confessed to being an outrageous drunk, and like the first priest, sated his alcoholic appetite in a lost weekend and then abstained the rest of the year.
The third priest, having listened most attentively to the other two, jumped up, clapping his hands with glee, shouting "And I am an awful gossip and I can't wait to get back to the parish, and tell everyone !!"
When I was telling my Irish friend about him, adding that he did the best Irish accent I had ever heard, I received a withering glance any gorgon would be proud of.
With great distain I was informed that of course he did - he was Irish - apparently he did the best English accent I had ever heard.
And so began my greater appreciation of this witty and talented man.
The one short story that was part of another was how much he enjoyed the Saturday afternoon movies where kids enjoyed a double feature - half price.
And that you could always tell what was playing by the way the kids exited the theatre - straight-legged and -armed for zombies , pretend capes flung across faces for Dracula, and sword slashing for Zorro. After a bit of a pause he went on to include cowboys and Indians, shooting up the air with invisible guns. At which point he looked down at his hand where part of one finger was missing and added "Not me though. I had a sawed-off shotgun !!"
At which the audience just howled .
The other story was about three priests meeting and talking on a train.
After chatting awhile, they started exchanging confidences.
The first priest admitted to being a terrible womanizer and that, once a year, every year, he overindulged in fleshly pleasures for an entire weekend and then, for the rest of the year sinned no more.
The second priest confessed to being an outrageous drunk, and like the first priest, sated his alcoholic appetite in a lost weekend and then abstained the rest of the year.
The third priest, having listened most attentively to the other two, jumped up, clapping his hands with glee, shouting "And I am an awful gossip and I can't wait to get back to the parish, and tell everyone !!"
