Guinness: “Dude, I don’t like the way you’re looking at me. Like a thirsty prospector casing a mudhole.”
me: “Oh, stop being so frickin’ paranoid, would you?”
me:
me “…Say, how do you feel about maybe inviting fifteen or so of your friends over? For a little party…”
Mmmmm. Guinness….
I think I will have a little get together with some of St. James gate’s finest a little later me’self.
Michaleen Oge Flynn: I have… I have … come …
Mary Kate Danaher: Oh, I can see that. But from whose pub was it?
The time has come,” Jeff Goldstein said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”
“A loaf of bread” Jeff Goldstein said,
“Is what we chiefly need:
Wings and pizza besides
Are very good indeed–
Now if you’re ready, Guiness dears,
We can begin to feed.”
“But not on us!” the Guinness cried,
Turning a little blue.
“After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!”
O Guinness,” said the armadillo,
“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
But answer came there none–
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d dranken every one.
A caucus race?
“St. Patty”…?
Sixteen? Where is the rest of the case? The armadillo got his? Beast.
Veeshir – nicely done!
I just poured two Guinness into a pot, and drowned my corned beef. That leaves four bottles. Alas, I think I’ll opt for some Pinot Noir. Perchance I should ship there rest to you, Jeff?
45 minutes ago: purchased a six pack of Guinness Extra-Stout, two packages of condoms, and gas at $2.54 a gallon all in one stop. This is what you get done in your name for driving snakes out of a country. Happy Saint Patrick’s Day everyone.
-Josh
I live about ten minutes from work, so at lunch I picked up a twelve and put them in the fridge. I have started the laundry and am finishing my first, the first of many Guinesses.
Staying in for the rest of the night. Too many amatuers out right now.
Word: numbers. And the numbers will be dwindling as the night goes on.
We here at the GCLU would like to remind everyone that Guinness have feelings too. So please, remember, there are other not-as-fine, but definitely Irish brews from which to sample. Say, a nice Caffrey’s, or a good Murphy’s Stout.
And let’s not forget the higher alcohol content kin, such as Jameson’s and Bushmills.
And please, don’t drink responsibly. It’s not St. Patrick’s day in America if you don’t wake up with your head in the toilet.
We here at the GCLU don’t have that problem. We simply have liver transplants every couple of years or so.
Jeff,
Before you get too far into your Guiness friends do you think you could come up with some entertaining reason that that land lobster ain’t gonna dance? In about half an hour I’m going to have to have a story about the “‘dillo that don’t dance” for a certain six year old. Now I can probably come up with something, but it certainly won’t be able to compete with you.
So….either he dances or you need to see if you can pour an excuse out of one of those Guiness bottles.
GASP!!! The fridge? Fer christ’s sake, only leave them in long enough to slightly chill.
I hope you folks aren’t buying the stuff in bottles. The draught can gives you a much better pour because of the little nitrogen widget in the bottom.
You can buy bottle draughts that have the nitrogen cartridge in them. That’s what I drink.
At least, until I’m able to buy a house and install a Kegerator.
That’s cool, Jeff, but the cans are BIGGER. Also an important selling point.
Q: Where does an Irishman go on vacation?
A: To a different pub
Kegerators are cool! I want one in my garage, along with an old boombox and a couple of lawn chairs. Spill a little gasoline to give it the right atmosphere, and voila! Instant place of manly refuge…
Jim in KC, you just described my basement.
Although with the spilled gasoline I shouldn’t be smoki
It’s either the fridge or the kitchen counter, and that’s stop #3 on their tour of Mikey’s place.
Sniff, sniff… that reminds of my old kegerator, “Phil”. An ancient Philco fridge (the “co” had broken off the chrome lettering) that had been handsomely modified. Man, I miss Phil…
A belated and Carlsberg-fueled Happy St.Patrick’s to all! Flann O’Brien takes on a whole new dimension, by the way, when examined through a veil of lager. ‘Tis!
Irish Car Bomb:”………..we’re waiting….”
Well, folks, another St. Patrick’s Day has gone by, and I’ve managed not to puke up my corned beef and cabbage. I’ll let the rest of you decide whether that means it was a good or a bad one.
Oh, and Khan, I’ve always felt like a shit because I just don’t get Flann O’Brien’s stuff. I guess I need more lager.
“The whole clan met at Galway Bay, where seamen push up stools.
They were giggling like the Colleens, and playing pocket pool.
They washed their balls in stout that night and bid their last goodbye.
‘We’re off to kiss the blarney stone, so zipper up your fly’.”
Red Peters’- The Two Gay Irishmen
tw: “out” – no kidding
Ugh, too many Guinness yesterday. Or was it just right? Whatever…
Hey, Jeff, 4 million hits+ right before me very bloodshot eyes, congratulations!
Sean – The Dalkey Archive plus six Tuborgs is a winning recipe. Alternatively, any of the Myles na Gopaleen bits, with a shot of your favorite uisquebaugh anytime “The Good People of Ireland” are mentioned.