By Noel Murphy
A Cork accountant dies and goes to Heaven. He is met by St Peter who goes through the usual questionnaire.
"What sort of accountant are you?" says St Peter
"I work in private practice," is the reply.
He gives his name. St Peter goes through some files and pulls one out.
"Oh, yes. We've been expecting you. You've reached your allotted span," says St Peter.
"How can that be?" says the accountant. "I'm too young to go. I'm only forty-eight"
"No, that's impossible."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well we've been looking at your time sheets and the hours you've charged your clients. By our reckoning you're at least ninety three."
A guy in a bar leans over to the guy next to him and says, "Want to hear an accountant joke?"
The guy replies, "Well, before you tell that joke, you should know that I'm 6 feet tall, 200 pounds, and I'm a Cork accountant. And the guy sitting next to me is 6' 2" tall 225 pounds and he's a Cork accountant too. Now, do you still want to tell that joke?"
The first guy says, "Not really, I don't want to have to explain it twice."
A man walking along a country road comes across a farmer droving a huge flock of sheep. He stops and chats for a while and then says, "Tell you what, I'll bet you €100 against one of your sheep that I can tell you the exact number in that flock."