There once was an old man named Esser, Whose knowledge grew lesser and lesser, The days become months and those become years, Only memories remain of both joy and tears. Maybe some day I’ll go back again to Ireland
If my dear old wife would only pass away She nearly has my heart broke with all her naggin She’s got a mouth as big as Galway Bay See her drinking sixteen pints of pabst blue ribbon And then she can walk home without a sway If the sea were beer instead of salty water See her drinking sixteen pints at Padgo Murphey’s The barman says I think it’s time to go Well she doesn’t try to speak to him in Gaelic In a language that the clergy do not know On her back she has tattooed a map of Ireland And when she takes her bath on Saturday She rubs the sunlight soap around by Claddagh Just watch the suds flow down by Galway Bay. May one day I?ll go back again to my homeland, It?s been many years and now its dragging, That?s the only time I?ll be happy and gay. See myself drinking six doses of bourbon See myself drinking doses after doses Well I try to speak to him about this And when the day will finally arrive Ill be running and dancing and singing Knowing only the right place to survive. Who Threw The Golf Balls In My. Friends Chowder? My friends gave a party just about a week ago, Everything was plentiful because they’re not too slow, They treated us like guests and we tried to act the same, And only what happened next was an awful shame.
Book Review of Drinking
Caroline Knapp writes eloquently and honestly, yet often starkly, about her life as a “functioning alcoholic. ” Ms. Knapp graduated Magna cum laude from Brown University, was a contributing editor at New Woman magazine as well as the Boston Phoenix. She wrote for many other magazines as well and was the author of Alice K’s Guide to Life. She was born into an upper-class family, one of two twin ...
Who threw the golf balls in their chowder? Nobody spoke so we shouted all the louder, It’s a little trick but we?ll catch the guys that threw, The golf balls in my friends chowder. When they were cleaning the dish of chowder, they fainted on the spot. They found a set of golf balls at the bottom of the pot. The neighbors got very mad with their eyes bulging out. They stood upon the stand and loudly did they shout. They took the balls from out of the soup and laid them on the floor. Each of us swore that we?d ne’er seen them before. They were packed up with morter and were worn to the knee. Only for what happened then it was just too sad to see. When they came to, they began to cry and shout. They had put them in the wash that day and forgot to take them out. The fellow neighbors excused themselves for what they said that night So we put music to the words and sang with all our might.
