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March 17, 2005

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Beer prints? What kind of art are you selling there?

Not a limerick, but a short anecdote about a friend who has passed on. My friend was of Irish ancestry, and like all of Irish ancestry wouldn't let the world forget that he was Irish. With me being Scottish, he and I had a good-natured rivalry about our respective celtic backgrounds that spanned several decades and workplaces. Shortly before his death, he announced to a bunch of us that St. Patrick's Day was coming up, and that there WOULD be celebrations in the office. "Why is it," I asked him, "that St. Pat is celebrated all over the stinking world, but St. Andrew's Day barely gets a mention outside of Scotland?"

"Well, that's because the Irish gave the world so much - music, poetry, whiskey..."

"What!?!!" I replied, somewhat screechily, "Scots invented the bicycle, the telephone, discovered penicillin, developed the steam engine. Capitalism! We invented Capitalism! And Socialism!!"

"Typical," he said, "a Scotsman celebrates history while an Irishman celebrates life."

He passed away about a month later, but that phrase was a suitable comment both about his own life and about what is celebrated on St. Patrick's Day. Erin go bragh, everyone.

Beer prints?

oops...guess there was a bit too much Guinness in my oatmeal...

Pints...Beer Pints....

"a Scotsman celebrates history while an Irishman celebrates life."

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. (What I love about the Irish, myself.)

There was a young man from Nantucket
Who's .....

Aw, hate that XXX stipulation.

Guinness? Oatmeal?

There's a difference?

There was a young man from Nantucket

There was a young man named Gannon or Guckert...

the weapons, Bush said, were Right There
and in Iraq, they looked everywhere
but no weapons were found
so Bush aped and clowned
...and eighteen thousand Iraqis are dead

Beer prints?
Of course, it's that little-know folk art of making impressions, in a thin layer of beer, with one's forehead on a flat surface (like a bar).
I understand no two are ever exactly alike......

"little-KNOWN"
"little-KNOWN!!!"

Accck! And I haven't even HAD any green beer yet!
Happy St. Pat's all......

a conservative whore named Guckert
was proud of his most manly measure
while unqualified
for the seat he occupied
he served at the President's pleasure

Two by the late, great Edward Gorey:

Some Harvard men, stalwart and hairy,
Drank up several bottles of sherry;
In the Yard around three,
They were shrieking with glee:
"Come on out, we are burning a fairy."

Harvard was Gorey's AM. So far as I know this does not explain why Gorey was a master of the limerick in French:

Les salons de la ville de Triste
Sont vaseux, suraigus, et funestes;
Parmi les grandes chaises
On parle des malaises,
Des éstropiéments, et des pestes.

Both from The Listing Attic.

a young falafel vendor, Ali
was pushing his cart down the street
along came some bombs
which blew off his arms
then he bled to death in the street

two butterflies found a flower
and soon the mood turned sour
it's mine! cried the tallest
and pushed off the smallest
such is the responsibility of power

God created alcohol to stop the Irish ruling the earth.

Considering that certain of my ancestors wore orange on St. Patrick's day, I've always had a sense of wierdness about the holiday. It usually disappates, though, after Guiness number four or five.

Went down the pub round the corner
One lovely pint of Guinness I did order
Imagine my sneer
When I took a sip of my beer
Not from a glass but a bottle.

Saving this one for later, when I'm maudlinly inebriated...

A lone caribou in the tundra
Ran off when he thought he heard thunder
But the ungodly sound
Was just drills in the ground
Continuing man's constant plunder

He paused when he realized his blunder
And gradually began to wonder
If they'd cease once they found
That the earth was all browned
And Nature herself torn asunder

Our family tree is both Scottish and Irish, and my father didn't much appreciate when I observed,

"I guess that just makes us cheap drunks".

Our family tree is both Scottish and Irish, and my father didn't much appreciate when I observed,


"I guess that just makes us cheap drunks".

Sounds like you're four fifths Irish, with a fifth of Scotch thrown in.

Political talk is germane
And state sponsored ad campaigns
But Bush's little scandal
To Kim can't hold a candle
For Dear Leader is bat$#!$ insane

Sounds like you're four fifths Irish, with a fifth of Scotch thrown in.

the Macallan is pure.

"Typical," he said, "a Scotsman celebrates history while an Irishman celebrates life."

I'm Scots Irish. No wonder I'm so mixed up.

cruel and unusual punishment
is unlawful, thanks eighth amendment
still, praised by a blogger
with given name: Volokh
one wonders where his fucking brain went

Two Irishmen walk out of a bar...


yeah right!

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