Ahh, my kind of people!
I come from a family of good Irish Americans. (I'm 3rd generation away from the ould sod.)
Ever hear of Irish Alzheimers?
We forget everything except the grudges.
Transfered from another place.
Sorry but these Irish stories come in 3's...(quite true btw)
We were catching a small boat from Clifton to the island of Innish Bofin.
On the quayside the Captain was selling tickets. "All those with tickets can get on the boat".
And with hardly a pause
"And all those without tickets can get on as well because we sell tickets on the boat too"
...............
Later on he sells me a ticket (while the boat was underway) and promptly tears it in two.
me "Do I need this for the return trip? "
him "No, only the boat".
[I'm sure they think up these little things during the winter for the confusion and delight of tourists]
During WW2 Churchill offered to relinquish British control in N Ireland if de Valera would allow the Royal Navy to use bases in S W Ireland to counter the German U boat menace. De Valera said no because he thought Hitler was going to win anyway.
oi! What's this about Bahsten? Aren't we chowdah heads oirish?
finding a quiet place for a lie-down, MapleSmurf?
I always thought paddies went into a bun, with ketchup and mustard and stuff...
Well, now, boyo . . . i know there are some Paddies with, shall we say . . . odd sexual predilections; i've no doubt that there is nothin' you wouldn't do yerself . . . but let's leave the discussion of condiment perversion outta this, 'k? There might be impressionable, innocent Brits readin' this, an' we've no need to gratuitously offend them . . .
Rumour is that Irish girls give the anal, because they are obsessed with remaining 'technical virgins' until marriage. Any insights on this Set? I don't think the Brits will be offended, Germaine Greer thinks they are a country of colon-patrollers anyway...(her opinion, not mine, btw).
Don't know about yer theory, boyo . . . however, i was once whisked away to the hay barn by a married Bridey on holiday in County Galway, an' she wore me out right quick . . .
"I'm on holiday, you're on holiday . . . i'm just lookin' fer one t'ing, how about you?"
Whew, them were the days . . .
Dang....I missed Galway on the last trip to Eire, but I was honeymooning, might have made that sort of scenario awkward...
Well, you an' yer Lovey could have enjoyed a hay barn yer own selves . . . In summer in Ireland, there's about 21 hours of daylight . . . makes gettin' drunk hell (comin' outta the pub at 11:30 p.m. to stare into a blazing, setting sun is hell, i tell you), but it makes naughty escapades easier and more interesting . . .
I think your quick probe into the sexual activities of Irish women has hit rock bottom.
heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee . . .
Just to bring the Skelligs discussion back to its rightful thread, the wife and I did the Skelligs trip too, and had quite the vomiter on board. We dubbed him "The Flying Dutchman" as he was indeed Dutch, and was very much a human projectile. His friends couldn't stop laughing at him. Apparently, I have good 'sea legs', but truth be told, it was just a matter of physics. I took a seat in the back corner of the wee boat, right next to the motor, where it is most stable. Had a lovely ride....sad thing was, I am afraid of heights, so I never made it up to see the monastery. Luckily, I like birds, so watched them instead. Oh well...
The puffins are far more interesting to look at than the ruins (though the view from up there is incredible, for us lovers of heights, at any rate).
The principal vomiter on our boat was in my own party, along with another who fell down on a German couple getting into the boat. Helpful and sympathetic soul that I am, I did my best to pretend I didn't know either of them.
