Camp Howdy

"The Irish barometer. . . the bottle of whiskey. . . solitary in so many homes. To be mixtured with boiling water and cloved lemons for the colds and chestiness of the old. To be egg-spooned into the dental cavity of the child that cries in the night when the dentist is sleeping. To put color into the shocked white faces of the bad occasions, to add more color to the ruddied cheeks of our joys. To seal deals, pacts, and promises, to say farewell and to say welcome home. The supreme spirit to punctuate the fluctuations of the Irish lives of both yesterday and today. And tomorrow."


'Sounds like fucking Danny Boy to me!'
 

Oh Sure! Just tryin to sucker Ol Zeke into the fray with yer silly little Bushmills thing! *L*!

'bout all I can say now is: "DING"!
 

Ding? Did I hear Ding?

You buyin or cryin, hoss? Rounder. Langer. Laggard. Safety Director.

So.

What's UP with this whiskey thing.

Someone throw me a bone about the catholic/protestant/baptist thing.

I mean, it's PHREAKIN WHISKEY, IT'S FROM IRELAND, IT'S PHREAKIN GOOD!

Not as good as Kentucky or Tennesse Whiskey (duckin incoming, just stiring it up I am).

But, I'D drink it. Course, I been known to drink brown water.

Who drinks what, over there, based on their socio/econo, religiouso, sexualo preferenceo/politico preferences?

YOU people, confuse me. Often.

Course, that just gives me reason to figger . . . . . n respond . . .
 

Just don't make me drink none of that Protestant crap!
 

nice to know the Irish barometer was uprising Rylie James at just about the time of the lengthy discussion. Seems more than appropriate to me! Bottoms up!