I have mixed political views and my ramblings
can be found in the Off
Center portion of this website. I invite you to get
to know me better before I invade your personal lives scraping
tidbits for this column.
If there is anything you wish to share with the Garden (or
just feel an over-whelming desire to have your 15 Minutes
of Fame), please email me: email@example.com
E-mail is always open.
The first course of business (that is a true pleasure for me) concerns my favorite holiday of all time - St Patrick's Day!
What do you do on the great day of the Wearing of the Green? Is everyone Irish on St Patrick's Day? Do you indulge in the drinking of green beer? Any favorite Irish songs you care to share? How about a favorite Irish recipe or an Irish joke? Any pictures of you in your green garb? (Lets try to avoid the green vomit pictures though).
All submissions would be greatly appreciated.
As I already mentioned, St Patrick's Day is my favorite holiday. I have the greatest childhood memories of the parties, the drunken adults, the Irish jigs, my great-uncle the accordion player, and of course, all the green. My family on my mother's side is all from Ireland. I lost my mother and my grandparents when I was young and the legacy of their Irish culture lives on in my heart. To be free and Irish in America was the greatest thing in the world to them and that has been passed on to me. So, in keeping with the tradition, I have a party for St Patrick's Day complete with traditional Irish music, kegs of green beer, wonderful family and friends and I even print out lyrics to some of the greatest Irish drinking songs so once everyone is loosened up with green beer, we can all sing like a bunch of drunken sailors.
(The only thing I omit is the Corned beef and Cabbage for obvious reasons.)
I will close out with one of my favorite Irish drinking
jokes and hope to hear from all of you real soon!
Paddy had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day
and most of the night celebrating Ireland's draw with Germany.
Mick, the bartender says, "You'll not be drinking anymore tonight,
Paddy." Paddy replies "OK Mick, I'll be on my way then."
Paddy spins around on his stool and
steps off. He falls flat on his face. "Shoite" he says and
pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He takes
a step towards the door and falls flat on his face. "Shoite,
He looks to the doorway and thinks
to himself that if he can just get to the door and some fresh
air he'll be fine. He belly crawls to the door and shimmies
up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes
a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a
step out onto the sidewalk.
He falls flat on his face. "Bi'Jesus...
I'm fockin' focked," he says. He can see his house just a
few doors down, and crawls to the door and shimmies up the
door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a
look up the stairs and says "No fockin' way".
He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom
door and says "I can make it to the bed." He takes a step
into the room and falls flat on his face. He says "Fock it"
and falls into bed.
The next morning, his wife, Jess,
comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says, "Get
up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?" Paddy says,
"I did Jess. I was fockin' pissed. But how'd you know?"
"Mick called. You left your wheelchair
at the pub."