After a long illness, An Irishman named Murphy went to his doctor. 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 was shocked and saddened by the news, but being of solid character he managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting room where his son had been waiting for him. Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I've got cancer and have been given a short time to live, so let's head for the pub and have a few pints."
After three or four pints the two were feeling a little less sombre. There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of Murphy's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating. Murphy said, "The Irish celebrate the good and the bad, so we're drinking to my impending end. I've only a few weeks to live as I have been diagnosed with AIDS."
Murphy's friends gave him their condolences and they had a couple more beers. After the 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 you were dying from AIDS?" Murphy said, "I am dying from cancer son, I just don't want any of them sleeping with your mother after I'm gone."