Saturday, March 17, 2012

Dancing & Rhyming for Patrick

Pre-Diageo buyout, Guinness would run ad-writing contests, annually awarding grand prizes of pubs in Ireland.

I never made it to Ireland; you can guess the decision of the herpetologically inclined judges towards my entry.


A pint o' Stout is my raucous shout, 
Cheering my heart with friends about. 
A pint o' Stout is my quiet pint, 
Balming my soul, in the dark of night. 

When final rest at last does beckon, 
As is all mortals' fate, 
Me, they'll find not at Heaven's, 
But, knock, knock, knockin' -- 
on St. James' Gate.


Have a happy Saint Patrick's Day

  • The winning entry, the year mine was rejected? "Guinness is the last thing you would think of if you were lost in the desert. Or maybe the first." I'm still bitter.
  • Today, in the familiar, it is St. Paddy's Day, NOT St. Patty's Day. From Paddy, NOT Patty: "Paddy" is derived from the Irish, Pádraig. "Patty" is the diminutive of Patricia, or a burger, and just not something you call a fella.

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