My hands hold an earthenware cruse
that ’til recently held some good booze;
the first taste was like skunk,
but the more that I drunk —
came to realize I’d just been confused!
Whilst looking for rhymes that were tasteful,
I passed up many that struck me as wasteful;
after hours with no luck,
I was suddenly struck
with the insight that I’d been ungrateful.
A hairy young troll named Nestor
left his ramshackle bridge to pester
the guards at the jail
with inarticulate mail,
so they took him to be the court jester.
Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, everybody! If you’re drinking have one for me, because by the time it’s over I won’t have had any to drink. Tomorrow, though, all bets are off because I’ll be switching back to day shifts for four weeks, at the end of which I have paid time off scheduled, and I’m going to be off for the weekend and planning a Saturday Jams post!
And yes, I’ll probably have some Irish. Funny thing is, even though I have Scottish heritage, I do prefer the Irish whiskey — Old Tom Horan is fine, or Proper Twelve, if I want to treat myself. And I blame it on the fact that when you go back in my lineage, push past the Scottish, you find their ancestors in Donegal. So, Irish and Scottish at the same time. And Scandinavian. And I have the DNA test to prove it . . . Tellmegen has me at about 67% “British and Irish”, which covers Scotland as well, and about 23% Scandinavian. That’s a 90% mix of more-or-less Viking, with a 5% helping of Basque and a sprinkling of Melanesian, Siberian Eskimo, Bedouin, and Maghrebi to finish off the last 5%.
Any excuse to enjoy a libation, I suppose.