Mame wrote:Ach, when I was young, we had a pharmacist, we did, who had those same false teeth Chai was talkin' about... well, they weren't the same, noooo, they were his own, they were. We young 'uns would go into the Drug Store and when all his customers had left the shoppe, we'd go up to him, we would, and ask him to clack his teeth and push them in and out. Well, he loved doin' this, he did. I don't quite know why we were so thrilled because on thinkin' aboot it, it really is quite disgustin', it is.
Yes, me and the manager here have been talking in Irish, or is it Scottish, accents all bleedin' morning. I'm gettin' right sick of it, I am, but I can't seem to stop it. I'm like a runaway train. Someone please hit me in the head with a board.
ach, that's a foin tale it tis lass.
It reminds me of a yarn an old friend spun me upon a time...
It seems she was ta be a brides maid at a grand wedding, a catlik weddin it was ta be, ya see...
To be sure, at the rehearsal the noight b'fer, the parish priest, a father O'Connor, do ya know him m'girl?
No matter, he gathered up the young maidens and instructed them as ta the right and proper order they was ta promenade down the aisle, then then, where ta stand, ya folla?
So, he says, says he...."you there Mary Margaret, lookin' so bright, you'll be the foist girl...
and Bridget, so smart ye are....you'll be the second girl....
and Patricia, ya darty girl ya....you'll be our turd girl...."
My friend told me they called Pat "turd girl" for years after.