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Duke attempts the Impossible
duke3016:
Now there are times when your mouth kind of runs away before the brain is in gear. Usually when you are distracted, tired or drunk or all three.
Myself, Denis and Sean O'Halloran were out one evening in Broadford and decided to hit for Ennis to go to a dance. Denis was driving and he had a rather beat up two door Ford Escort. Sean got in the back and we set off.
Now the only thing besides fighting that Denis was worse at was driving. Consequently the road bent round to the left outside of Bradford and the car didn't. We left the road and the car seemed to roll a couple of times and came to a halt the right way up.
I checked all my extremities and they seemed to be working and looked over at Denis who was slumped against the window with blood all over his forehead. I had nothing else so I took off my shirt and wiped away at his forehead. There was a gash just on his hairline which bled a lot but didn't seem to be too deep. He was conscious and swearing a lot so he looked fine.
I looked into the back seat and there was no sign of Sean. WTF, where was he. The next thing there was a rap on the side window that frightened the Shiite out of me. It was Sean.
“You OK lads” says he
“WTF, how are you out there” says I
“Don't know, just found myself in a field” says he
I looked at the back of the car again and there was no back window. He must have fallen out. I got out and felt fine, Sean said he was fine not a scratch and Denis had stopped bleeding. We struggled to the road and flagged down a car. The car was full of people and the driver on hearing the story threw them all out and took us to the hospital in Ennis.
We were checked over and because it was a head wound Denis was kept in overnight for observation. Sean and I got a taxi home and I went down to Denis's house just to let them know what had happened. The Touhy's had no phone.
Denis's sister came to the upstairs window after I hammered on the door and I explained what happened and not to worry we would pick Denis up in the morning. I then went home and crawled into bed.
I was awoken by Margaret knocking on my bedroom door telling me that Mrs Touhy and her daughter were downstairs and wanted a word. I dressed hurriedly and went down to meet them.
“We were a little confused last night Ger, can you tell us what happened” says she
“We had a bit of an accident but Denis is OK he was kept in for observation only” says I
“Oh good” says she “Are you Ok”
“Oh yes fine” says I
I noticed she was staring at my shirt and I realised that in my hurry to dress I had put on last nights shirt. Now the shirt was a mess covered in blood. I looked down at the shirt.
“Oh that's not my blood, it's Denis's” says I
Two strong cups of tea later she had sufficiently recovered to leave the house.
duke3016:
A Poem For Those Over 40
A computer was something on TV
From a science fiction show of note
A window was something you hated to clean
And ram was the cousin of a goat.
Meg was the name of my girlfriend
And gig was a job for the nights
Now they all mean different things
And that really mega bites.
An application was for employment
A program was a TV show
A curser used profanity
A keyboard was a piano.
Memory was something that you lost with age
A CD was a bank account
And if you had a 3 inch floppy
You hoped nobody found out.
Compress was something you did to the rubbish
Not something you did to a file.
And if you unzipped anything in public
You"d be in jail for awhile.
Log on was adding wood to the fire
Hard drive was a long trip on the road
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived
And a back up happened to your commode.
Cut you did with a pocket knife.
Paste you did with glue
A web was a spider"s home
And a virus was the flu.
I guess I"ll stick to my pad and paper
And the memory in my head
I hear nobody"s been killed in a computer crash
But when it happens, they"ll wish they were dead.
ANON
duke3016:
My Uncle Declan (Dex) was my mother's brother and had inherited the diminutive stature of the O'Kielys and the temper to match. He spent much of his young life in the Irish Army and he joined the ould lad, in England, working on the buildings in the 50's.
He had a wicked sense of humour and fondness for the foaming ale. In Ireland there are two distinct “Black” days in the drinking calendar when the pubs are 'officially' closed for business. These are Good Friday & Xmas Day.
Therefore it was seen as a challenge to find a pub that was open on these days and to be honest it wasn't very hard. On one particular Good Friday, Dex called to the house to see if I would be interested in 'finding' one of these pubs.
Does a beer Shiite in the woods. We set off.
We knew that the Blacksticks would be one of the favourites and off we went. We went along the back road by Kelly's and arrived at the cross approximately 200 yards from the pub. Parked at this cross were about 10 cars a good sign that the pub was open for business.
We parked up and walked towards the pub. Any self respecting Guard seeing no cars outside the pub and a rake of them at the cross would have been hard pressed not to get 4 when putting 2 & 2 together, priceless.
We came to the door and Dex knocked, we heard cries of “shush” from within, another good sign. Then we could hear Paddy's size 13 feet coming down the hall to the door.
Before he opened the door Paddy whispered.
“Who is it” says he
“Dex and Ger Smyth” was the reply
“When were you here last” says he
Now that is a sensible question to ascertain whether Paddy thinks you are a regular or not and it deserved an honest and sensible answer along the lines of “I have drank in this pub many a time over the last few weeks you eejit” etc etc etc Oh No
“We were here last Christmas” says Dex quoting the only other 'Black' day
Despite his attempt at humour we of course got in and had a good day.
Priceless
duke3016:
Cancel, Retry, Ignore
Once upon a midnight dreary,
Fingers cramped and vision bleary,
Player specs piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of duvets sinning,
Still I sat here playing poker and winning:
Having reached the big decision, I took a ciggy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand,
I then invoked the "All in" command
But got instead a reprimand: it read, "Cancel, Retry, Ignore?"
Was this some occult illusion?
Some manacal type intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.
Carefully I weighed my options...
These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly I must now adopt one; choose: Cancel, Retry, Ignore?
With my fingers pale and trembling
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored
Praying for some guarantee,
Finally I pressed a key.
But what on the screen did I see? Again "Cancel, Retry, Ignore?"
I tried to catch the chips off guard -
I pressed again, but twice as hard,
But luck was just not on the cards, I saw what I had seen before.
Now I typed in desperation
Trying random combinations.
Still there came the incantation "Cancel, Retry, Ignore."
There I sat, distraught, exhausted,
By my own machine accosted
getting up, I turned away and paced across the kitchen floor.
And then I saw an awful sight
A bold and blinding flash of light
A lightening bolt that cut the night, and shook me to my very core.
The PC screen collapsed and died.
"OH NO! MY BANKROLL!" I cried.
I heard a distant voice reply, "You"ll see your money...nevermore!"
To this day I do not know
The place to which our money goes.
perhaps it goes to heaven, where the angels have it stored.
But as for Productivity, well,
I fear this has gone straight to Hell.
And that"s the tale I have to tell - your choice: Cancel, Retry, Ignore.
ANON
duke3016:
I got up one Saturday morning, feeling a little tender, looking forward to the prerequisite Lucozade and wagon wheel when I looked out the window. There was a space where my car should be.
FFS I know I didn't drive home last night, but I was certain I didn't drive to where I was going either. So the car should have been there where I left it after coming home from work.
Think.
I know I started off in Mike's then went on to Scarriff, but to be honest the end of the night was a little hazy to say the least. I was certain that it wasn't nicked because it was as bad a pile of junk as you ever did see and no self respecting thief would be seen dead in it. Now I could report it stolen and have the Guards find it for me. But the Guards couldn't find water if they fell out of a boat. It'll come to me, I went out into the shop.
“Where's your car” says the ould lad
Now I wasn't going to say I didn't know, was I
“I left it in Scarriff last night, didn't want to drive home” says I
“Makes a fecking change” says the ould lad, ever the Mr nice guy
“I didn't hear you drive off last evening” continued the ould lad
“Aye it's running good that old car” says I
He gave me a look usually reserved for people who have just robbed him of his last pound and I finished my Lucozade and wagon wheel and went out, first stop Mike's. The car wasn't outside and I went in and the usual cronies were there. I ordered a pint and tried to think. Nope I hadn't a clue.
I cadged a lift to Scarriff and did a quick scan before going into Henchy's. Nope, no sign.
Sigh. It was a nice day anyway so I had a couple of pints, played a few games of 45 and basically did what I usually did on a Saturday, continued on the lash. The Craic was good that day and the music that night was very good and the girls were looking exceptionally beautiful that evening.
I woke up the next morning with a monumental hangover and looked out the window. The car was there outside my window as usual. WTF now I was really getting paranoid. I got washed and dressed and went to mass and returned to the shop for the usual Sunday morning rush.
“Drove fecking home then last night” says the ould lad. Bugger !
“No” says I
“Then how the feck did the car get there this morning” says he
“I dropped it back during the afternoon” lied I
“Feck off” says he “I would have heard you”
“Old age Da, you didn't hear me leave either” says I, not turning to dust with the withering look that I got
The rush over, I went into the kitchen and greeted my sainted mother.
“Freddie Welch left this for you” says she
There was a six pack of drink on the table. WTF
“That was nice of you to lend your car to Freddie on Friday so he could have the car for the day to go to Limerick, he dropped it back last night while your father was in bed” Thank God for that
“You're such a good boy” says she
Promises were made that day concerning drink that of course were never kept.
Priceless days sorely missed
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