Irishman named Murphy went to his doctor after a long illness. The
doctor,
after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Murphy in the eye and
said,
"I've some bad news for you ... you have cancer and it can't be cured.
I'd
give you two weeks to
a month." Murphy shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid
character,
managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the
waiting room. There he saw his son who had been waiting.

Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and
celebrate
when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I
have
cancer and I've been given a short time to live. Let's head for the
pub and
have a few pints."

After three or four pints they were eventually approached by some of
Murphy's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating.

Murphy told them that the Irish celebrate the good and the bad... He
went on
to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end and said,
"I've
only got a few weeks to live, boys, as I have been diagnosed with
AIDS."

The friends gave Murphy their condolences and they had a couple more
beers.
After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and whispered his
confusion...

"Dad I thought you said that you were dying from cancer...? You just
told
your friends that you were dying from AIDS?"

Murphy said, " I AM dying from cancer son, I just don't want any of
those
bums sleeping with your mother after I'm gone."