Cede Mile Failte Mo Chairde! (for those of you not blessed to speak or understand the native tongue of the Auld Sod that’s ‘1000 Welcomes My Friends!’, a time honored Irish greeting)
The Day finally draws neigh! IT falls on a Saturday this year ta boot, can it get any better than that?Wahoo! I can’t hardly wait! Since St Patrick’s Day falls on a Saturday this year and that Impish’s posting Day I thought I’d do just a wee bit of an issue in my regular post as opposed to the full blown extravaganza I did last year. (https://dragonlaffs.com/2011/03/17/leprechaun-laffs-st-patricks-day-spectacular-extravaganza/)
The reasons for this are two-fold; first it would be bloody well neigh to impossible to match or top last year’s issue to the point I was wise enough not even to try it. Nothing kills a thing faster than a bad sequel. Second in truth I just did not have the time or feel up to putting all that effort into a special issue this year. I’m blessed with an abundance of work at the moment and have to take the opportunity to make hay while the sun shines so to speak . Secondly I have not been feeling my best for the past 2 weeks having been thoughtful given by one of Molly’s rather large and extended family a case of the “Spring Crud” at a recent family gathering. This flavor of the “Crud” was apparently not the same one that Molly had brought home about a month ago and I had successfully avoided so now we both have it. When you spend all your waking time coughing and blowing or trying to catch your breath whilst keeping your pounding (from the coughing) head from exploding it leaves precious little time for much else but sleep.
Have no fear, thanks to my recipe for “Jewish Penicillin w/ an Asian Twist” (homemade Chicken soup w/ garlic and ginger) we well on our way to getting rid of the “Spring Crud” and feeling up to making mischief once again. I already am much improved and hope to be back in fine fettle in time to give my full measure to festivities on Saturday
Irish Racing Story
Racing is a national pastime, I soon got accustomed to the Reverend fathers, rushing past me to get a bet on at the race track. My mate Trev spotted one Reverend father making a big fuss of a horse in the parade ring. Amazingly the horse went on to win the next race easily.
We took great interest when we saw the same Reverend father bless another horse in the next race, blow me, this horse won too. Well we were hot on the Reverend father’s coat tails for the third race and as soon as he patted a horse called Foxy Loxy, we raced off to get the best odds we could with the bookies.
Foxy Loxy was well up with the pace on the first circuit, but down the back straight for the second time, Foxy Loxy dropped to the rear. Then to our chagrin it dropped dead by the water jump.
When we went back to the bar we fell into conversation with a local, and told him the tale of the Reverend father. ‘Be gora’ he said, ‘you have to learn the difference between when Reverend Murphy is blessing a horse and when he is giving it the last rites’ .
‘Twas those very words I spoke to Impish just this morning about Saturday!!
St Patrick’s Day Saint Patrick’s Day, commemorating the life of the great apostle of Ireland, has become a day of celebration for both Catholics and non-Catholics. From Wikipedia: “Saint Patrick’s Day (Irish: Lá Fhéile Pádraig) is a religious holiday celebrated internationally on 17 March. It is named after Saint Patrick (c. AD 387–461), the most commonly recognized of the patron saints of Ireland. It originated as a Catholic holiday and became an official feast day in the early 17th century. It has gradually become more of a secular celebration of Ireland’s culture.
Saint Patrick’s Day has come to be associated with everything Irish. To those who celebrate its intended meaning, St. Patrick’s Day is a traditional day for spiritual renewal and offering prayers for missionaries worldwide. Most Irish citizens attend mass followed by an evening of traditional Irish food and drink.
It is a public holiday in the Republic of Ireland, Northern Ireland, Newfoundland and Labrador and in Montserrat. It is also widely celebrated by the Irish diaspora, especially in places such as Great Britain, Canada, the United States, Argentina, Australia, New Zealand, and Montserrat, among others.”
St Patrick’s Day facts: separating myth from reality
This St Patrick’s Day, Telegraph.co.uk looks at some of the facts and myths surrounding Ireland’s national celebration.
St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland, although he was born in Britain, around 385AD. His parents Calpurnius and Conchessa were Roman citizens living in either Scotland or Wales, according to different versions of his story.
St. Patrick’s Day was first celebrated in America in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1737. Around 34 million modern Americans claim Irish ancestry.
According to St. Patrick’s Day lore, Patrick used the three leaves of a shamrock to explain the Christian holy trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Popular Irish toasts on St Patrick’s Day, include: may the roof above us never fall in, and may we friends beneath it never fall out.
Trifolium dubnium, the wild-growing, three-leaf clover that some botanists consider the official shamrock, is an annual plant that germinates in the spring.
On any given day 5.5 million pints of Guinness, the famous Irish stout brand, are consumed around the world. But on St. Patrick’s Day, that number more than doubles to 13 million pints, said Beth Davies Ryan, global corporate-relations director of Guinness.
Blue not green is the color originally associated with St Patrick. “St Patrick’s Blue” is used on Ireland’s Presidential Standard or flag, while the Irish Guards sport a plume of St Patrick’s blue in their bearskins. The emphasis on green is thought to be linked to “wearing the Green”, a symbol from the 18th century on, of sympathy with Irish independence.
Until the 1970s, all pubs were shut in Ireland on St Patrick’s Day, the sole venue selling drink being the annual dog show. Lenten fasting – and the obligation to abstain from meat – were lifted on the day, which most families would begin with Mass.
According to legend, on the day of Judgment, while Christ judges all other nations, St Patrick will be the judge of the Irish.
Since 1962, tons of green dye are tipped for St Patrick’s Day into the Chicago river, although the quantity has reduced, for environmental reasons, from 100 to 40.
You all know how there are no snakes native to Ireland and that is allegedly because St Patrick drove them out of Ireland (though admittedly not the manner suggested by the cartoon, after all he was just a poor Catholic saint and couldn’t afford a car much less the gas!) ) But what you DIDN’T know was what we called ‘snakes’ in Ireland in fact looked like this: In actuality it was us leprechauns who put up a sizable fund to build St Patrick a church if he’d get rid of the bloody dragons who were constantly trying to steal our gold so we could get on about our business in peace! We just called then bloody big snakes so he wouldn’t chicken out on the deal. We figured either we’d get rid of the Dragons or the Dragons would get rid of St. Patrick but either way we’d have one less hand in our pockets. We just never bloody figured on the Democrats or their bloke Barak Obama. Now every year for the last 3 St Patrick’s Days my brethren and I that have emigrated to America go to mass and pray that St Patrick might drive these snakes out of America! We even build him a bloody big cathedral but I think he might still be a wee tiffed at us o’er the last time we asked him for a favor.
Wait! WHAT?! St. Patrick is going to judge the Irish come Judgment Day? Aww BLOODY HELL! We leprechauns are sod all bollixed for sure!
Actually green beer is just beer that has been passed through a leprechaun’s kidneys before bottling- that’s right, leprechaun pee!
Nasty case of Arthritis
A man flops down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man’s tie is stained, his face is smeared with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey is sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opens a newspaper and begins reading.
After a few minutes the guy turns to the priest and asks, ‘Say, Father, what causes arthritis?’ Loose living; cheap, wicked woman; too much alcohol; and contempt for your fellow man, ‘answers the priest.’ I’ll be damned, ‘the drunk mutters, returning to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he said, nudges the man and apologizes.’ I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. How long have you had arthritis?’
‘Oh, I don’t have it, Father. But it says here that the Pope does.’
Three guys, one Irish, one English, and one Scottish, are out walking along the beach together one day. They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it. “I will give you each one wish, that’s three wishes in total”, says the Genie.
The Scottish guy says, “I am a fisherman, my Dad’s a fisherman, his Dad was a fisherman and my son will be one too. I want all the oceans full of fish for all eternity.” So, with a blink of the Genie’s eye FOOM! the oceans were teaming with fish.
The Englishman was amazed, so he said, “I want a wall around England, protecting her, so that no one will get in for all eternity.”
Again, with a blink of the Genie’s eye POOF! there was a huge wall around England.
The Irishman asks, “I’m very curious. Please tell me more about this wall.” The Genie explains, “well, it’s about 150 feet high, 50 feet thick, protecting England so that nothing can get in or out.”
The Irishman says, “Fill it up with water.”
Apparently I missed the Memo that says St. Patrick’s Day is ‘my turn in the barrel’ if I’m to judge by some of the humor I’m getting in my e-mail. Ok I’m cool with that. Impish takes my shots with stoic good natured silence most of the other weeks of the year I can at least take mine for 2 posts!
Don’t worry! I’m sure Impish is busily collecting as many shots at me as he can for Saturday when he knows I’ll be too busy and too happy to care for you to laugh at.
There’s about as many types of drinking songs as there are reasons to have a drink. Some celebrate a job well done and a drink deserved, while others revel in drunk disorderliness or bemoan a hangover. It’s all about intoxication, either in the sense of getting a rush or of getting poisoned.
There are tons of drinking songs, there are tons of terrible drinking euphemisms, like “imbibe,” “quaff” and “tipple.” Ugh!
Apparently in finding these very best drinking songs, whomever didn’t discriminate by alcohol content or drinking context. The only thing that mattered was that they told the truth. When folks get drunk, sh*t can either get real fun, real sad or just real messy.
No.10 Kris Kristofferson, “Sunday Morning Comin’ Down”
Though Johnny Cash made this tragic song famous (even winning it the CMA Song of the Year award in 1970) and Willie Nelson also recently recorded it, the best version is by Kris Kristofferson, the man who wrote this great ode to the sad comedown after a night of drunken debauchery.
Drinking lyric: “And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one more for dessert”
No.9 Wynonie Harris, “Quiet Whiskey”
The fantastically named Wynonie Harris cut some excellent jump blues songs in the late ’40s and early ‘50s. These swinging tracks full of double entendres may have predated the official birth of rock ‘n’ roll, but they already embodied all of its best qualities: shouty vocals, a dynamic sound and an elastic rhythm section just made for wild dancing. All combined with lyrics about unhinged behavior, such as this tale of what happens after opening the first bottle of whiskey (more are bound to follow, and the cops are soon to come).
Drinking lyric: “Whiskey, whiskey on the shelf, you were so quiet there all by yourself/Things were fine till they took you down”
No.8 The Champs, “Tequila”
Some of the best drinking songs work so well because you don’t actually have to be lucid enough to remember, or even know, the lyrics. “Louie Louie” is perhaps the best-known example, a favorite of slurring mouths around the globe, but “La Cucaracha” or this nigh-instrumental blast of fun by the Champs is even easier to shout out late at night. See also: raucous singalongs; shouting neighbors; tragic limbo accidents.
Drinking lyric: “TEQUILA!”
No.7 Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, “Gimme That Wine”
Vocal jazz may have a stuffy and even cheesy image, but just imagine those classy cocktail joints loosened up after closing time: fingers snapping left and right, the floor sticky with spilled daiquiris and the air clogged with skinny cigarette smoke. A cappella wizards Lambert, Hendricks & Ross team up here with a band for a silly original not that far from the rowdy stylings of Wynonie at No. 9. We dare you not to crack a smile. The whole things rhymes, too!
Drinking lyric: “Unhand that bottle!”
No.6 Three 6 Mafia, “Sippin’ On Some Syrup”
“Purple drank” or “sizzurp” are slang names for the newest drink on this list, a Southern concoction made from a cough syrup base mixed with soda or even candy. Though both the drank and its most powerful ingredients (codeine and promethazine) make cameos in songs by Lil’ Wayne, Nicki Minaj and Drake (most recently his “I’m On One”), the drank’s catchiest appearance was in this Oscar-winning (!) rap troupe’s “Sippin’ On Some Syrup.”
CAUTION! (C)RAP MUSIC! CONTAINS BASICALLY NOTHING BUT VULGARITY!
Drinking lyric: “Sippin’ on some sizzurp/Sip, sippin’ on some, sip”
No.5 Tom Waits, “New Coat Of Paint”
With his gravelly voice, off-kilter humor and after-hours piano playing, Tom Waits has written many tributes to being blitzed on booze, “The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me),” “Jockey Full Of Bourbon” and “Drunk On The Moon,” to name some of his more blotto tunes. My favorite is “New Coat Of Paint” (one of the better euphemisms for getting jacked on booze), off the fantastic dive-bar soundtrack The Heart of Saturday Night.
Drinking lyric: “Our love needs a transfusion, so let’s shoot it full of wine”
No.4 The Pogues, “Streams Of Whiskey”
For every dozen rock stars lost to hooch and drug abuse (RIP Zeppelin’s John Bonham, Amy Winehouse, AC/DC’s Bon Scott), there’s one who miraculously endures, and that’s Shane MacGowan. This at one point almost toothless singer started the Pogues in the early 1980s, reinvigorating Irish folk music with a double shot of raw punk and creating an infectious cocktail of politics, accordions and Guinness.
Drinking lyric: “There’s nothing ever gained by a wet thing called a tear/When the world is too dark and I need the light inside of me, I’ll walk into a bar and drink 15 pints of beer”
No.3 Metallica, “Whiskey In The Jar”
Surely the oldest song on this list, “Whiskey In The Jar” probably hails from the 17th century and relates the tale of a violent highwayman betrayed by a woman. Though not actually dealing with drinking as such, the song’s infectious (and incomprehensible) chorus seems tailor-made for breaking out in boisterous song. And sorry, Thin Lizzy fans, James Hetfield’s maniacal singing style, which adds an extra syllable to the last word of every line he sings (-ah!), makes this the version to beat.
I’ll take an honest Irish version of this song any day and IMHO this is a butcher job of a fine song.
Drinking lyric: “Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, yeah, yeah!”
No.2 The Gourds, “Gin & Juice”
It’s easy to forget that Snoop Dogg‘s second single was as much an ode to booze as it was “bubonic chronic,” and The Gourds’ bluegrass reinvention turns this classic West Coast track into a country hoedown jam, all beat-up fiddles and jars of moonshine.
If it’s my opinion ya be wantin’ vocalist Kevin “Shinyribs” Russell could pass for John Popper basically any day
Drinking lyric, duh: “Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ indo, sippin’ on gin and juice/Laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind”
No.1 Dead Kennedys, “Too Drunk To F*ck”
Buzzed on cheap booze, broke as hell, your ears assaulted by tinny punk thrashing — that’s when a mosh pit starts to seem like an ideal habitat. The Dead Kennedys’ highly political hardcore punk is surprisingly as funny as it is angry. Our No. 1 on this list may end in vomit and worse, but on the way it’ll make even sober people smile with lines like, “You give me head/It makes it worse/Take out your f*ckin’ retainer/Put it in your purse.” Cheers!
CAUTION! MUTIPLE F-BOMB WARNING!
Drinking lyric: “Went to a party/I danced all night/I drank 16 beers/And I started up a fight.”
Not a decent Irish Drinking Song in the lot! Oh well! I can bloody well fix that!
A couple toasts to get us off on the right foot then:
“Here’s to a long life, and a merry one; a quick death, and an easy one; a pretty girl, and an honest one; a cold beer – and another one!”
“May the devil make a ladder of your backbone – While he is picking apples in the garden of Hell”
Never Felt Better
In a court in Killarney, deep in Munster, Ireland, this conversation is reported to have taken place:
Lawyer: ‘At the scene of the accident, Mr.. O’Shea, did you tell the Garda officer that you had never felt better in your life?’
O’Shea the farmer: ‘That’s right, sir.’
Lawyer: ‘Well then, Mr.. O’Shea, how is it that you are now claiming you were seriously injured when my client’s car hit your cart?’
O’Shea the farmer: ‘When the Garda arrived, he went over to my horse, who had a broken leg, and shot him. Then he went over to Darcy, my dog, who was badly hurt, and shot him.
Then the policeman came across the road, gun still in hand, looked at me, and said, ‘How are you feeling?’ I just thought under the circumstances, it was a wise choice of words to say: ‘I’ve never felt better in my life.’
Sorry! Just a wee bit o’ Gratuitous Irish Scenery! St. Patrick’s Day always makes me homesick for County Cork and the Irish countryside in the spring is one of the most beautiful places on earth.
An American tourist travelling in County Clare came across a little antique shop in which he was lucky enough to pick up, for a mere 200 Irish punts ($350), the skull of Brian Boru*.
Included in the price was a certificate of the skull’s authenticity, signed by Brian Boru himself.
Fifteen years later the tourist returned to Ireland and asked the man from Clare, who owned the antique shop, if he had any more bargains.
‘I’ve got the very thing for you, ‘said the shopkeeper, ‘It’s the genuine skull of Brian Boru.’
‘You cheat, ‘exploded the American, ‘You sold me that fifteen years ago, ‘and producing the skull added loudly, ‘Look, they’re not even the same size.’
‘You have got it wrong,’ opined the seller, ‘This is the skull of Brian Boru when he was a lad.’
* Brian Boru (940 to 1014) managed the rare feat of uniting Ireland. In a turning point in the war with the Vikings, Brian Boru defeated the Viking leader Ivar in single combat. Not only was Brian successful in battle, but he also had at least 4 wives and founded the O’ Brien clan.
Sounds like one of my relatives owned that shop!
What? You think the Chinese invented that idea with the bloody fortune cookie? Not bloody likely boy-o!
Recently ( Leprechaun Laugh # 128 for Wednesday Feb 15th 2012) I ran an item about the father of a 14 year old with a big chip on her shoulder, and even bigger vulgar mouth and little appreciation for what can and does happen when you post things online about your personal life. (Daughter’s Facebook post infuriates dad and her laptop pays the price ) Well Dad made a video response to her Facebook comments and posted it there. The grand finale of the response was his destroying her lap top by shooting it in his backyard with his 9 MM pistol. The response went viral and the rest as they say was history.
Not only did the girl get a lesson in tough love and the unintended consequences of posting scathing rants at your parents on line. She has also gotten several other ( I’d say valuable life) lessons, like about the vile things that people will say and do because you post things on the internet which get major attention.
Then there is the one about how the Liberals in the Comrade Big Brother- Nanny State will gleefully use the words of an obviously rebellious barely teenager who is pissed off at her parents (wow what a surprise given the age) doing the cyber equivalent of the public for drama tantrum thing as gospel truth and basis for launching an intrusive investigation into the family and (preeminently until all children are of legal age)hooks of we can comeback any time now and if you refuse our unwarranted intrusions into your private life and raising of your children take your children away for refusing to co-operate under the PRESUMPTION you have something to hide.
Then of course there was the same flavor of BB-NS from the other level of government who didn’t want to be left out or out done (no clear idea of which one of these was state and which was local) who decided that the Father’s replay was clearly a case for an immediate investigation into possible child endangerment issues because he used on gun on her lap top, when she was not even home and never once threatened her with it, simply because in their estimation the response was poor judgment on the Father’s part! Yet strangely the preponderance of comments made when last I looked were in support of his actions.
Lastly and perhaps most important she got a lesson from her Father that he stands by the same values he was preaching at her. Namely that you stand up and take responsibility for your actions afterwards. Here is an interview with the family discussing the aftermath of the video going viral on one of the morning shows you’ll see what I mean.
I resent that middle one! Up until 8 bloody years ago I never felt the need for a wife, or a fashion critic and in fact had more bloody men’s fashion sense that all of the women I knew and half the men, INCLUDING 3 that were ‘don’t ask don’t tell” who used to ask ME for fashion advice! NOT mind up that most of the time for most of me life I had much of a wardrobe to chose from. Choices are not complicated when your biggest question facing your closet is than Utilities or Dress uniform!
Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore – The High Kings
Mary Clancy goes up to Father O’Grady after his Sunday morning service, and she’s in tears.
He says, “So what’s bothering you, Mary my dear?”
She says, “Oh, Father, I’ve got terrible news. Me husband passed away last night.”
The priest says, “Oh, Mary, that’s terrible. Tell me, did he have any last requests?”
She says, “That he did, Father …”
The priest says, “What did he ask, Mary?”
She says, “He said, “Please Mary, put down that damn gun.”
A scuffle started in the local one Friday night. Words were exchanged, then insults and finally blows. Bottles, glasses, people, flew through the air and Casey ended up being hit in the face by a sharp piece of glass which cut off his nose.
‘Stick his nose back on and hold it with your hand,’ ordered McGinty. ‘And we’ll get him to the hospital.’
Out into the street they flew to be greeted by sheets of rain pelting down.
Quickly they bundled the injured man along and into the casualty department.
‘Will he live?’ inquired the boys.
Too late,’ said the doctor, ‘he’s a goner.’
‘Was it loss of blood?’ asked Finbar.
‘No, he drowned. You put his nose on upside down,’ sighed the doc.
Murphy had asked Casey for the hand of his daughter in wedlock.
‘And can you support a family?’ asked Casey.
‘I think so,’ replied Murphy.
‘Well. There’s six of us, you know,’ said the future father-in-law.
Murphy had studied the facts carefully and had come up with the following conclusions.
The odds against being on a plane which had a bomb on board were 10,000 to 1.
However, the odds against being on a plane which had two bombs on board were 10,000,000 to 1.
‘That settles it,’ he said. ‘From now on, every time I fly I’m taking a bomb with me!’
‘Is that the Liverpool Echo?’ said Patrick.
‘How much would it be to put an ad in your paper?’
‘Five pounds an inch,’ replied the receptionist.
Too dear!’ snapped Patrick.
‘Why? What are you selling?’
‘A ten-foot ladder,’ said the Irishman, and banged the phone down.
Lethal was tooling along the road one fine day when the local policeman, a friend of his, pulled him over. “What’s wrong, Seamus?” Lethal asked. “Well didn’t ya know, Lethal, that your wife fell out of the car about five miles back?” said Seamus. “Ah, praise the Almighty!” he replied with relief. “I thought I’d gone deaf!”
One of the customs associated with St Patrick’s Day is ’the wearing of the green’.
According to some accounts, blue was the first color associated with St. Patrick’s Day, but that started to change in the 17th century. Green is one of the colors in Ireland’s tri-color flag, and it has been used in the flags of several Irish revolutionary groups throughout history. Ireland is the “Emerald Isle,” so named for its lush green landscape.
The Wolfe Tones – Wearing Of The Green
At one time in an attempt to crush Irelands sense of heritage, pride and sense of nationalism, England actually outlawed an Irishmen wearing green. The wearing of green on St Patrick’s Day also helps us remember our perseverance through these hard low times.
Of course just as with everything else in life you have those who will take things to extremes. A couple cases in point:
However I much prefer a more subtle tasteful and/or private statement/display like this:
See what I mean? What’s that? You don’t like her or the way she wears her green? Well then!….
Well as you can see we’ve come to the end of the issue. I ahve to go behind the magical gate and do some serious drinking…I MEAN Quality Control Consulting! What? No! I’ll NOT stand you a pint Impish! I swear the only brand you drink is “Other Peoples” you cheap dragon!
Ok, Ok! In the spirit of Irish hospitality IF you can find me on St Patrick’s Day I’ll stand you a pint & a lunch plate of Corned Beef. Give you a hint? Ok I’ll be…