1 day an irishman walks in to the bar and orders 3 beers.

he walks to the table, drinks them all 1 by 1, then goes back to the bar and orders 3 more.

the bar tender says, it's best if i pour them 1 at a time- they go flat as soon as i pour them

irishman explains i've got 2 brothers, 1 in australia, and 1 in america. we made a promise after the war we'd drink together- and since we can't all be here, it's a nice way of doing it.

the barman thinks this is a good idea and leaves it at that

anyway, the irishman becomes a regular in the bar- always ordering 3 beers.

1 day he comes in and only orders 2

the other regulars fall silent

when he goes up to get the second round the barman says, i'm so sorry for your loss.

the irishman looks quite confused for a moment, then a light dawns in him and he says.. oh no, everyone's fine. i've just given up drinking