Paddys day ya bollix ya ( Beckett )

I was just being a bit maudlin and lamenting
my lost yoot as it struck me like a smakeroo
blurdey from the heavenly bode that I had not
had a wild paddys day for an awful long time. I
lingered in the shitehole that is " Shatts " and lo and
behold a friendly face appeared . No less than the
Director of Golf from the London club bearing gifts
from his lock up.....darn east. The boy what done good
after his apprenticeship at the Dale ....yes Ali " Baby strap "
Robertson. Two lovely ladies were on his arms so I
thought I would listen to his extensive range of 007
impersonations. Might get a swallie out of it I thought.
Yes shamefully I imbibed on Paddys day ! After 72
dry miserable days I thought I would treat myself to a pint
of mud. Apart from the lovely ladies and Alis jolly company
Wales were beating England and I was becoming very vocal.
I even gave it a blast of " Bread of Heaven " which woke up the
deaf bloke in the corner. I left with as much dignity as one can
muster from a kneeling position.....and made my way in Army
fashion to my local bar in B-right-on. The Firm were in their
usual corner plotting the movement of commodities and insisted
that I try some. They also dispersed fairly quickly when the Welsh
song interlude kicked in again. They never want too much attention .
I ended the evening by holding firmly onto the bar , and rotating
my head very slowly from one side to another so as not to cause too
much dizziness. I ended up talking to a very nice gent about amateur
dramatics and it turns out he is a local high court judge.
Respectability restored and a reminder that I am too old to have
such wild nights.
SLAINTE