Browsing all posts in Guinness.

Jan 10th
Sunday

 

Ravens 33

Patriots 14

The first quarter was enough to make me gorge a bucket of maggots.
Did I swear?
HellsYeah.
There’s always next year, I guess . . .
Wes, we missed you

 

Nov 24th
Tuesday

98% of people say ‘Oh Shit!’ before going in the ditch on a slippery road.
The other 2% are from Massachusetts and they say,
‘Hold my beer and watch this!’

*I usually say,
“Put on your seatbelt. I’m going to try something.
I’ve only seen it done in a cartoon but I think I can do it.”

Happy Thanksgiving, folks!
I will be off and on with the blog for the next few days as I prepare Thursday’s feast.
Roast turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, cranberry sauce, sweet potato casserole and on and on.
Be safe, be well, be happy and be full . . .

Aug 1st
Saturday

A quick post for Maureen and Mark who will be leaving us tomorrow afternoon bound for home.
This post is more emotional for me than you could ever believe.
Thank God it’s not live on YouTube.
From Pamela, Sarah, Jenna, Hannah, Jon and me . . . Godspeed on your trip back home.
Know that there will always a ‘home away from home’ for the both of you right here.
We don’t want to let you go but sadly, we must.
Two weeks ago, the song in my head was ‘Get Here’ but now I’m thinking it should be ‘Get There’,
back to Oz where your hearts and souls live.
Thank you for your love, your stories, your hearts, your incredible ability to make us laugh
(and take the piss out of us) and your endless Aussie generosity.
Pamela and I are gobsmacked and so incredibly blessed.
Might take a while but We’llberightmate . . . until the next time anyway.
Love you both to bits . . .

ps. light the candle, Maureen  ;)
pps. I’ll keep on working on the G’day . . .

Apr 6th
Monday

I began reading the new Natalie Goldberg book  ‘Old Friend from Far Away’ a few days ago.
It’s a book custom-tailored for writers of memoir.
So far the book is quite good (like all of her books).
Page 14 has a prompt that I’ve decided to turn into a post.
The chapter is quite short:

“Die”
Tell me what you will miss when you die.

When I die there will be many things that I will miss.
This list went on for quite a few pages but I’ve chosen an abbreviated version for your perusal.
If I included food you’d be here for a few days.
I mostly chose things from the category ‘matters of the heart’.
Feel free to steal this as a ‘meme’.
For you writers visiting, it’s a wonderful exercise. Do it.
Even if you don’t consider yourself a writer, it’s worth your time.
You can look at some of the things that really make your life worthwhile.
Here I go.

I will miss:

-Whispers in the dark
-Pamela’s eyes, voice, face and beautiful soul
-hearing the phrase, “I love you, Daddy,” whispered in my ear
-my three beautiful girls
-the sound of little footsteps coming down the stairs on Christmas morning
-my sister, my twin, the other part of my very soul
-Caitlin’s smile
-Ryan’s loveable way (and awesome jumpshot)
-Billy’s laugh
-All the people I truly love (if I’ve talked to you in the past year, consider yourself on this list)
-a warm and gentle rain
-the silent beauty of falling snow (yeah, I wrote that)
-the sound of surf at the Cape
-the smell of freshly cut grass in late spring
-stars (especially the constellation Orion, someday possibly the Southern Cross)
-my cats purring
-Cuban cigars
-Guinness (or any fairly decent dark beer like Porter or Stout)
-Makers’ Mark
-writing with a nice fountain pen on some fine quality paper
-the feeling of creating
-entering ‘the Zone’  (artists of all kinds know about this one)
-music (playing and listening)
-my piano
-weekend phone calls to a country far, far away with two incredibly special people
-memories of the Camp
-Bermuda
-the aroma of an apple pie baked by my grandmother from summer’s long ago
-Blue Cheese
-Bill Hicks, Denis Leary, Sam Kinnison, George Carlin, Lewis Black and Dave Chapelle
-sunsets
-reading
-most importantly, my blog

And yes, I will dearly miss sex and exceptional breasts.
I’m not a freak.
Truthfully, what will you miss?

Mar 10th
Tuesday

From those wonderful folks at Guinness:

“Last year, Guinness® started Proposition 3-17, the campaign to make St. Patrick’s Day an official holiday in the US. While we gained a lot of your support, we still need one million signatures.
When you and your friends support Proposition 3-17, you have the opportunity to make a difference. To make history. To make official what we already know is the greatest holiday of the year.”

This is something that is near and dear
to me Irish heart.
Click on the Guinness banner above and cast your vote!
My dear daughter Sarah sent this link to me but failed to buy me a pint.
Oh, sweet Mother McCree, kids these days . . .
If you feel so inclined to purchase me a pint, click on the Guinness glass below.
All will be explained.
(michael@badsneaker.net)
But at least sign the petition!
btw- I’m making “Steak & Guinness Pie” this year for the Irish holiday. (thanks, J0j0!)
Stay tuned for the review.


No man ever wore a scarf as warm as his daughter’s arm around his neck.”
~Old Irish saying

Pour yourself a pint!!!!!!!!

Mar 16th
Sunday

“The Brothel”

Two Irishmen were sitting at a pub drinking beer and
watching the brothel across the street.
They see a Baptist minister walk into the brothel, and one
of them says, “Aye, ’tis a shame to see a man of the cloth
goin’ bad.”

Then they see a rabbi enter the brothel, and the other
Irishman said, “Aye, ’tis a shame to see that the Jews
are fallin’ victim to temptation as well.”

Then they see a catholic priest enter the brothel, and
one of the Irishmen says, “What a terrible pity …one of
the girls must be dying.”

“Irish Cemetery”

Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Seamus, were stumbling home
from the pub late one night and found themselves on the road
which led past the old graveyard..

“Come have a look over here,” says Paddy, “It’s Michael
O’Grady’s grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe
old age of 87.”

“That’s nothing,” says Sean, “here’s one named Patrick
O’Toole, it says here that he was 95 when he died!”

Just then, Seamus yells out, “Good God, here’s a fella
that got to be 145!”

“What was his name?” asks Paddy.
Seamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match
to see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims,

“Miles . . . from Dublin.”

“Irish Last Request”

Mary Clancy goes up to Father O’Grady after his Sunday
morning service, and she’s in tears.
He says, “So what’s bothering you, Mary my dear?”
She says, “Oh, Father, I’ve got terrible news. Me husband passed away last night.”
The priest says, “Oh, Mary, that’s terrible. Tell me, did he
have any last requests?”
She says, “That he did, Father…”
The priest says, “What did he ask, Mary?”
She says, “He said, “Please Mary, put down that damn gun.”

“Lent”

An Irishman moved into a tiny hamlet in County Kerry.
He walks into the local pub, orders three pints of Guinness takes them to a table and proceeds to drink them taking his time.
He repeats this two times and then leaves the pub.

A few nights later he returns to the pub, orders three pints of Guinness, takes them to a table and drinks them taking his time. He repeats this two times and leaves the pub. He continues this for several weeks.
Soon the entire town is talking about the “Three Pint Man.”

Finally, one day the pub owner on behalf of the entire town broaches the subject to the man. “I don’t mean to pry, but folks are quite curious why you order three pints each time you come in .”

The man replied, “I have two brothers – one in America and one in Australia. When we parted ways we all promised that each time we had a drink, we would order an extra two pints as a way of keeping up with each other.”

The pub owner and the entire town thought this was wonderful and were pleased that the brothers meant so much to each other. “The Three Pint Man” became a celebrity not only to the town but to the surrounding area.

One day the man came into the pub and orders only two pints of Guinness. The pub owner poured them with a heavy heart knowing in his soul that something dreadful must have happened. The news spreads around town and people are offering prays for the “Three Pint Man.”

This went on for a few weeks and the pub owner says to the man, “I want to offer our condolences due to death of your brother. We are all heart broken. You know the two pints and all.”

The man ponders this for a few minutes and replies, “You will be glad to hear that my brothers are alive and well. It’s just that I, meself, have decided to give up Guinness for Lent.”

“Vat O’ Guinness”

Brenda O’Malley is home making dinner, as usual, when Tim Finnegan arrives at her door.

“Brenda, may I come in?” he asks. “I’ve somethin’ rather important to tell ye.”

“Of course you can come in. You’re always welcome here, Tim.” says Brenda. “But where’s me husband, Shamus?”

“That’s what I’m here to be tellin’ ye, Lass. There’s been a simply tragic accident down at the Guinness brewery…”

“Oh, God no!” cries Brenda. “Please don’t tell me…”

“I must, Brenda. Your husband Shamus is gone. I’m dreadfully sorry, Lass.”

Finally, Brenda looks up at Tim and tearfully asks, “Please tell me how it happened, Tim.”

“Aw, Lass, it was terrible. Poor Shamus fell into a vat o’ Guinness Stout and drowned.”

“Oh my Sweet Jesus! But please tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go quickly?”

“Well, no, Lass… not exactly.”

“No?”

“No, fact is, he got out three times to visit the men’s room.”

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, folks!

And a tip o’ the hat to this Lass
For tomorrow is her birthday (39! . . . same age for the past five years!)
Breithlá sona duit!

~m

 

Jul 8th
Sunday

Yeah, that’s about right
I’m outta here . . .

~Guinness

Jul 7th
Saturday

Mmm, tasty.
I love goldfish because they’re crunchy
~Guinness

Feb 22nd
Thursday

It was on February 22, 2005 that I first posted this.
It was read many times but never received a comment but it was my first tentative step into the whacky and obsessive world of blogging.
I like to think that people that visit here are appreciated and today is no exception.
I can’t imagine how drab my life would have been had it not been for my blog.
I love the writing, posting, editing, changing of templates (And Moe rolls her eyes {grin}), maipulating of widgets, uploading of custom banners; I love all of it.
But none of it would be worth anything if it weren’t for you.
Yeah, you.
The person reading this post right now.
That’s right. . . you.
I thank you from the bottom of my almost empty Guinness glass (the bottom of my heart seems a bit shallow right now).
You make me smile, think, laugh and obsessively look forward to this crazy hobby called blogging.
I pray you’ll stick around because I feel the best is yet to be.
A special thank you to the woman that allows me the time to be creative, my wife.
Blogging takes time. And she gives me all the time I need. That’s love.
I’ve put together a slide show of all the different artwork that has graced these pages over the past year or so.
It’s fairly short but fairly hip.
Click on my Blogiversary cake above and enjoy the show.
To all of you still reading, thank you.

~Michael

ps. it’s already the 22nd downunder, hence the early post =0)

Feb 7th
Wednesday

A pic of a deeply sleeping Guinness before I join him.
I plan on buying a decent digital camera with this year’s tax refund so I can
keep those of you interested in the growth of our little tiger up to date.
To see his marbled coat change should be a real treat.
We learned the other day that Bengals have unusually large paws.
Found out that Guinness has frickin’ baseball gloves.
A bit odd in proportion to his body.
He’ll grow into them no doubt.
Bought a laser light for the cats today.
Damn, it’s funny to watch them chase it.
They exercise, I laugh. Good stuff.
Long day, folks.
And I’m tired of thinking…
Night all.

~m

ps. Happy Birthday, J.M.M (17)
(luvya, Dad)

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