"Randal, you look so fine today. Of course I'm wearing my beer goggles, why do you ask?"
I've nothing against the drink, but man, am I fucking glad I'm not at work today so I don't have to deal with the inevitable invasion of drunken, hooky-playing idiots buzzing like bloodthirsty, brain-damaged flies around the tightly coiled feces serpent that is the St. Patrick's Day parade meandering through downtown Cleveland.
"Dude! Where's the fucking bathroom!"
"Your pants, apparently."
Oh, and don't fall in the giant crater, morons.
"Dude, that's the biggest tap I've ever seen!"
At least the little kids don't get plastered, then annoying.
They're merely there to see shiny, floaty things of green.
Let us close on a classy note, with some poetry.
Edgar, take it away.
Lines on ale
Fill with mingled cream and amber
I will drain that glass again.
Such hilarious visions clamber
Through the chamber of my brain -
Quaintest thoughts - queerest fancies
Come to life and fade away;
What care I how time advances?
I am drinking ale today.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Boozehound on my trail
Posted by Randal Graves at 6:48 AM
Labels: arcane rituals, cleveland, narcissism, real poets
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17 comments:
.... buzzing like bloodthirsty, brain-damaged flies around the tightly coiled feces serpent ...
Golly! Better call Orkin. They could help with the flies. For the shit-snake you may have to call Cleveland Animal Control.
Kiss me! I really am part Irish.
Happy Saint Pat's Day, kiddo!
"Dude! Where's the fucking bathroom!"
"Your pants, apparently."
I couldn't stop laughing at that one.
I left an Irish saying for George Bush at the bottom of my post today. I hope he likes it...and I hope it comes true. ;-)
Erin go braugh and all that crap. ;-)
Wish I were at home--or at your place!
Randal, I'm glad I have an allergy to alcohol (save for wine and sake, oddly enough) that makes me break out in bad hives whenever I imbibe so much as a shot glass. I just look stupid.
Happy St. Paddy's Day!
Salut,
Marjorie
Near penniless and addicted to alcohol and drugs when he died, Edgar Allan Poe said, "I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect upon humanity. Man is now only more active - not more happy - nor more wise, than he was 6,000 years ago." An eternal optimist! My kind of guy.
Randal-
A toast to you today--
May you die in bed at 97 the victim of a jealous husband.
That sounds like our annual Greenville Avenue St. Paddy's Day Parade! The revelers leave urine and tightly coiled thingies on the lawns of neighborhood houses. Ugh.
Unless you're drunk, it's no fun being around drunk obnoxious people...
Happy St Pats...
For whatever reason it seems not that festive for me this year. I will likely spend it sober.
Typically I am buzzing by 10:00 am but I had to work today.
H-Happy Shaint Patricksh Day to all my buds here. I probably don't say this often enough, but you guys are the greatest. I love you Man!
OK, time for another Guinnesh.
Please, no green beer.
Happy day off too dude!
You start out with the pic of the chick.
You move into dudes-ville.
You wrap it up with Edgar.
That is why I fucking love this blog. That and maybe a little Cthulu too.
Here ya go, a joke.
Potential and Reality
A kid comes home from school with a writing assignment. He asks his father for help. "Dad, can you tell me the difference between potential and reality?"
His father looks up, thoughtfully, and then says, "I'll demonstrate. Go ask your mother if she would sleep with Robert Redford for a million pounds. Then go ask your sister if she would sleep with Brad Pitt for a million pounds. Then come back and tell me what you've learned."
The kid is puzzled, but decides to ask his mother. "Mum, if someone gave you a million pounds, would you sleep with Robert Redford?"
"Don't tell your father, but yes, I would," she replies.
He then goes to his sister's room. "Sis, if someone gave you a million pounds, would you sleep with Brad Pitt?"
She replies, "Omigod! Definitely!"
The kid goes back to his father. "Dad, I think I've figured it out. Potentially, we are sitting on two million quid, but in reality, we are living with two sluts."
Are you prancing around your house nude on this Monday again? ('Cause then you aren't wearing green and you're gettin' pinched!)
(If you happen to have green eyes, then I suppose you may have to pinch me back...)
okjimm, no need, it's supposed to rain a whole lot this week, so we'll just let the sewers overflow with the refuse. That's what civilized nations do.
POP, oh, everyone says that! Which might not be that far off the mark, given that we're a nation of mutts.
ME, oh fine, on that national, solemn holiday you cast an evil eye towards Der Leader. Where's your Irish patriotism?
dguzman, oh my place was boring as hell. The kids were at school so I just spent the day reading. ;-)
marjorie, well then it's a good thing I love wine because if I ever strike it rich and have a giant blogger party, you'll have something to drink!
dr. zaius, so far, he's not wrong. ;-)
dean, ouch, um, thanks? Can't I die in my sleep after the shag? This sounds like it'll be at the hands of a gunshot or a rusty knife!
candace, lovely. And of course nothing gets done because as you know, all cops are drunken Irishmen. I saw it in a movie!
poli, exactly. And some folks just get silly when they get drunk, so that's fine. That's how I am.
Maybe it's because we're getting older. The best part of holidays now (federal ones anyway) is just having the day off!
tom, and a happy one to you, you possibly drunken bastard!
fot, my grandma used to make us green pancakes when I was a little kid. That also struck me as quite odd.
liberality, thanks but I'm always off on Mondays, I'm at work on Saturdays instead. ;-)
fran, well thank you very much. It's always good when people read your junk when you aren't posting on politics. That shit is annoying as green beer and pancakes.
ME, HAHAHAHAHA!
Wait, isn't it Lent? Didn't you just tack on about another decade onto your Limboing?
FB, no, I was pretending to be an autodidact. Aw shit, I didn't have on a green shirt, and my eyes aren't green either. Oh well, you're still getting pinched.
Can't I die in my sleep after the shag?
I think that's the point of that Irish blessing. You get to die after a long life and doing something you love.
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