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An Irishman named O'Malley went to his doctor after a long illness.

The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked O'Malley in the eye and said, "I've some bad news for you. You have cancer, and it can't be cured. You'd best put your affairs in order."

O'Malley was shocked and saddened. But, being of solid character, he managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting room, to his son who had been waiting.

O'Malley said, "Well, son, we Irish celebrate when things are good, and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things
couldn't be worse. I have cancer, and am dying. Now, let's head for the pub and have a few pints."

After 3 or 4 pints, the two were feeling a little less somber. They
had some laughs and some more beers.

They were eventually approached by some of O'Malley's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. O'Malley told them that the Irish celebrate both the good and the bad. He went on to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end. Then he told his friends,
"I have been diagnosed with AIDS, and soon I will be gone from this earth forever."

The friends gave O'Malley their condolences, and had a couple of beers with O'Malley and his son.

After his friends left, O'Malley's son leaned over and whispered to
his father in confusion, "Dad, I thought the doctor said that you were
dying from cancer, but you just told all of your friends that you were dying from AIDS!"

O'Malley said, "Ah, and it's for sure there'll be none of them sleeping with your mother after I'm gone, now will there?"
 
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