Dragon Laffs #1376

Header st patGood morning campers. 

Yes, St. Patrick’s Day is in two days.  Those of you who may remember the last St. Patrick’s Day that fell close to my publishing date almost caused WWIII at Dragon Laffs & Leprechaun Laffs Electronic Media, LLP.  mushroom-cloud-5There was yelling and screaming; there was pulling of hair and rending of flesh; sissyfightthere was gnashing of teeth and biting of nails.  There was this look by Lethal Leprechaun:
Untitled-05And this look by Impish Dragon:
3There were these messages left by Lethal Leprechaun:
Do-You-Feel-Lucky-St-Patricks-Day-Leprechaun-Funny-TShirt300And these reactions by Impish Dragon:
3aIt … Wasn’t … Pretty!

So this year, I have a plan.  I will do some research and try and find out the real story behind St. Patrick’s Day.  Not the drunken guzzling of green beer…

MarToon 4Nor the fantastical powers of a 3 leaf clover…
stpattys62(Okay, so that one ain’t so bad)
Nor the supposed sighting of pink (or green) elephants, floating pots of gold or even dancing letters spelling out Happy St. Patrick’s Day
Happy St P lettersOkay, that’s so just not right…
Okay, so I searched and searched and found SO much disparate information, that I didn’t know what to do!  I was sunk, if I couldn’t work this out.  So…I swallowed my pride (not that I had much of that at this point) and went to see the master himself. 

Now, at this point, I need to explain something.  I’m actually married to a beautiful dragoness who comes from a family of Shite Irish.  St. Patrick’s Day is THE holiday of the year for them.  Not for the drunken, debauchery aspects of it, actually the complete opposite.  They are more of the religious, Irish who think that St. Patrick’s Day is second only to Christ’s birth (Christmas) and possibly his death and resurrection (Easter).  As the husband of one of the female members of this household, I’ve managed to imply knowledge that I may or may not actually have.  So, you’d think that going to my in-laws would be an obvious choice, but in actuality, the threat of being disowned or possibly even strung up as an English sympathizer, never really entered the equation.

Hence, going to the master.  The Lethal Leprechaun.  I’ve extracted the audio and from the office surveillance system and added some of my own comments and present it here to you.  Because if I didn’t show all this to you, you wouldn’t believe it any more than I did.  And I WAS THERE!

The TRUE Story of The Origon of Legend of St Padrig- at least according to Lethal
ID: So there I was outside Lethal’s office door on wobbly legs (stupid replacement knee joint) nervous as all get out. The deadline for my issue was looming and it was to be our St Patrick’s Day Issue. I had convinced Lethal to give me a shot at redeeming myself for my last attempt at what he considers one of the top 5 issues we put out every year. Since 3 of the 5 are Patriotic in nature you see what sort of pressure I was feeling. Problem was I was confused as all hell and needed help from an Irish expert desperately. Unfortunately the only one I knew who was anywhere near an authority on Irish (Ancient/Mythological) History was the guy whom I hired originally as my sidekick and somehow (through some bad wagers, shady deals and an insurance scam or two) wound up my boss. I had been hoping to do a bang up job on this and get myself some sort of reprieve from the possibility of being replaced as his sidekick.
I knock on the door jamb, “Lethal? Have you got a minute?”
He looked up from a giant ledger perched atop the clutter of paperwork piled high about his desk, a half eaten corned beef sandwich in one hand and a fountain pen his his other. He scowled, looked at his clock then scowled even more.
LL: “I’m very busy doing my job and most of yours too, shouldn’t you be hard at work on your issue? It is one of your top 5 issues need I remind you! I haven’t seen a text from the printers that they have your final copy or even from the editors about a first draft.”
ID: “That’s what I was hoping to talk to you about”
LL: “No you cannot have an extension and if you’re thinking of asking me to either do it for you, post Saint Padrig’s Day or jump in now and take your Saturday you’d best be thinking about how you’re going to grab your belongings and get out of here before I sic the Wild Hunt on your soon to be sorry tail!”
ID: He began reaching for a binder behind his desk labels ‘Vetted Possible Replacements’. “No! No! It’s nothing like that at all, its just I…well frankly I’m a bit confused. There is so much contradictory information out there about St Patrick and even that on which most of the sources do agree is apparently 75% scholarly conjecture pulled from a million tiny hints 3rd or 4th hand. How do I know what’s truth, what’s legend and what’s outright fancy as you’d call it? And who in the Abyss of Irish History is this Saint Padrig guy you are talking about?” I blurted out hoping to stop his reaching hand.
Lethal turned back, silently regarding me while his jaws worked mightily at another large bite of that Corned Beef sandwich. I couldn’t help it; I started drooling. I don’t know where he get’s it but Lethal’s Corned Beef is nothing short of…well magical. Lethal swallowed, lifted his mug of Brown Gold and took a healthy swallow.
LL: Padrig is Patrick in Gaelic, it’s the name that he’s known by in the Church of Ireland and on many a marker. They’re all over Ireland not unlike ‘George Washington Slept Here’ markers here in America. So what you’re saying is you’d like my guidance in learning what the TRUE origin of the Legend of St Padrig/Patrick is?”
ID: “Yes, yes I would. I would very much.
I thought to myself that I really needed to do the best that I could, just to get our company back on an even keel again.  This whole “looking for a new sidekick” thing had to stop and if this was my best way to do it, then so be it.
Lethal regarded me thoughtfully while chewing. One more bite and he’d be reaching for the other half of his sandwich. My stomach rumbled loudly, I tried to look ashamed of it and embarrassed. More coffee was swallowed. HE glanced back at his ledger and sighed.
LL: “OK I’ll tell you the TRUE origin of St Padrig’s Legend, You won’t believe it or me, but I’ll tell it to you, or rather I’ll relate it to you in the same manner it was too me by my Great Grandda when he was alive. Mind the rugs with your claws their new and priceless originals, hand the that guitar from the corner, cop a squat on the hearth and yes you can have the other half of me sammie, NO you CANNOT have any Brown Gold”
My tongue shot out so fast the bifurcated ends snapped like twin whip tips and that sandwich was a memory; One I pleasantly went over several times in my head as Lethal tuned the guitar and began playing a remarkably familiar tune.
ID: “Hang on Lethal, I might be confused about what’s true and not with regard to St Patrick or Padrig or what ever we’re calling him but I’ve heard your Irish music CD’s enough to recognize that tune. That’s ‘The Unicorn Song’ you’re playing. What do Unicorn’s have to do with St Patrick?!”
LL: “Not a bloody thing.”
ID: “Then why…”
LL: “Haven’t ya noticed that there are a lot o’ Irish tunes whose melodies sound remarkably similar but with greatly dissimilar lyrics? That because music writing is bloody hard, especially for people who can’t read or write in their own language let alone the 3bmusical one, while creating lyrics to fit some already existing piece of music is a lot simpler. It happens occasionally in older American Folk Music too, it just happens a whole lot more in Irish music. Now, do you want to hear what I’ve got to tell you or should I bash you over the head El Kabong like and get back to me ledger work?”
ID: “My bad I didn’t know that either. Please continue” He did continue. Like me, as he predicted, you’ll never believe what he swears is the TRUE origin of the Legend Saint Padrig/Patrick.
A long time ago when all o’ Erin was still magical and green
She had more mythical creatures than you’ve ever seen.
They ran around free like while quaffing from huge flagons
Well all but those under the rule of the mean old Dragons
There are green eyed Sylphs and long-necked Nixies
Some bark wearing Brownies and fairie circles full o’ Pixies
Some Banshees and Changlings riding Golden Hind fawns
But the finest of all are the Leprechauns
Now Padrig seen the Dragons and it made his suffering worse
And He says, “Stand back, I’m going to make the Dragons go bother the Norse”
He says, “Hey Leprechuans, I’ll tell you what you can do-
Fund me a religious conversion and I’ll get rid o’ the Dragons for you!
The Leprechauns stepped up to answer Padrig’s call
They finished up gathering the gold just as the Rome started to fall
The marched the pots two by two
And they called out as they came through
Hey Padrig,
There are green eyed Sylphs and long-necked Nixies
Some bark wearing Brownies and fairie circles full o’ Pixies
Some Banshees and Changlings riding Golden Hind fawns
But remember your work was funded by the Leprechauns!
And Padrig looked out through the soft fallin’ rain
Them Dragons were flying, threatening all with their flame
he was stealin their egg while that rain was falling
Oh, them silly flyin’ snakes with horns
The long boat of eggs started moving, it drifted with the tide
The Dragons looked up from their rocky crags and they cried
And then divine lighting came down and sort of burnt them away
That’s why you hardly ever a Dragon to this very day
There are green eyed Sylphs and long-necked Nixies
Some bark wearing Brownies and fairie circles full o’ Pixies
Some Banshees and Changlings riding Golden Hind fawns
But the finest of all are the Leprechauns.
Now you might think this is the ending to the song,
But I’ll have to tell you boy-o that in fact you’re wrong
You see, Dragons are magical, so when the lighting started fallin,
A few o’ the smarter ones took dimensionally their arses ta haulin’.

And there you have it!  The true story of St. Patrick.  I’m still up in the air as to whether or not he discovered the Eternal Fountain of Guinness or not, but I’ll leave that up to another essayist. One very important thing to note is that St. Patrick’s Day is the longest running wake of all time!  Because March 17th celebrates St. Patrick’s death (which occurred in 461) this means that his wake has been going on for 1,553 years!  Now isn’t that an amazing fact!

So, without further ado, let’s be done with the St. Patrick’s Day issue, leaving the thoughts of Saints and Dragons for another time.  If you are all good and ask nicely, I’ll tell you the story of where the arse hauling dragons went dimensionally off to!

coollogo_com-253612466One of the best ways I’ve seen to gather your mates up for a pint on St. Patrick’s Day:

A very funny (and mean) way to wake someone.  You need two items.  #1 a laser pointer and #2 a dog.  Check out this video:

I have a laser pointer and I  have a dog, plus, I have a mischievous little dragon who would be the perfect target for this type of prank.  I’ll try to get my own version of this by publishing time.


A new Olympic sport?  Something to do when work is closed due to snow?  How about just full-goose-bozo stupid?  Yeah, that would be the one!


Dragon Pix2

DragonPapa1 (248)

You’ve got to be kidding me!!!!


What is the Resurrection?

While the priest was presenting a children’s sermon, h
e asked the children if they knew what the Resurrection was.

Now, asking questions during children’s sermons is crucial,but at the same time, asking children questions in front of a congregation can also be very dangerous.

In response to the question, a little boy raised his hand.

The priest called on him and the boy said, “I know that if you have a resurrection that lasts more than four hours you are supposed to call the doctor.”

It took ten minutes for the congregation to settle down enough for the service to continue




And everyone thinks that I’M the womanizer!!

This is one amazing two player golf shot.  Yes, I said two person golf shot.  Just watch:







That, my dear campers is my dearest wish…except it’s much older than 95 and the jealous husband is no younger than mid 20’s and no older than early 30’s.


A man walked into a Washington, D.C., Catholic Church confessional.  He tells the priest, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  Last night, I killed a congressman.”
The priest responds, “My son, I’m here to forgive your sins, not to
discuss your community service work”


MarToon 2

And with that, dear fellow campers and walkers through life, we will put to bed another issue of your favorite ezine of all time.  Have a wonderful weekend and a safe and happy St. Patrick’s Day.


Impish Dragon

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