I write to wish you happy St Patricks day. Not that
you'll be in work, be jasus an begorrargh. No to be
sure you'll have donned your funny green suit and
your wife will have put on her new green dress and
you'll have headed on down to the oirish bars in town.
No doubt you'll be buying drinks all round and doing
tricks.
Then it's all back to someone's caravan and a bit of
the old Val Doonican. Then you punch your best
mate cos he's giving your wife a leery look. Then
he hits you back and you look into each others eyes
and sure don't you remember growing tatties with
him in the old country. So you sling your arms
around each other. Then you slap your wife cos no
wonder Seamus is giving her a leery look what
with her showing her chest to half of conemarra.
And you make her put a shawl on. Then you sing
a mourneful ballad about a potato famine. Then it's
'Paddy McGinty's Goat' and everyone gets drunk
and you do your Frank Carson joke about a Cork
man breaking into Ladbrokes and losing £250.
Then it's more drink before heading off to mass
and then it's back to the oirish bars while the
women go home and get the tatties and cabbage
ready.
And you finish the night off with a knee trembler
down some back ginnell with Rosie from the
pound shop.
I tell you Mr O'Reailly i wish i was a Paddy likt
you
LOVE AND PEACE
BERNARD WILSON
P.S.....Denise was wondering whatt you did for
crisps during the potato famine? I said you
probably ate cheesy wot-sits