Thursday, March 15, 2012
Kiss Me I'm Irish -- St.Patrick's Day Bloghop
Well at least for today I am. The words to the song – When Irish Eyes are Smiling – are tumbling around in my head. I wanted to change my blog to green for today - but I don't know how.
Who was St. Patrick? He was an actual saint, not a cute little leprechaun who sells breakfast cereal. It's been said that St. Patrick has the honour of being the most celebrated saint in the world. Why is that? Well one reason might be that the day signaled the lifting of the restrictions of Lent and one of those restrictions involved alcohol. So today was the first day – after a long dry period – to pop down to pub for a pint or two – or three – or maybe just a wee one before you head home.
Time for a couple of good clean Irish jokes. (answers at bottom of blog)
1. What's green and sit out on the lawn all summer?
2. In Ireland, what do you call a fake rock?
3. When is an Irish potato not Irish?
4. What happens when a leprechaun falls into a river?
There – I've given you a bit of the backstory to St Patrick's Day and a couple of jokes to make you day brighter. And as I know you have a lot more blogs to read, I'll end this here with an old Irish drinking toast.
May your glass be ever full.
May the roof over your head be ever strong.
And may you be in heaven
Half an hour before the devils knows you're dead.
Circles Interlocked - Having been betrayed by the man she assumed she was destined to be with forever; Julie Anderson slapped Robert Holiday in an angry ending to their brief love affair. Heartbroken that her love affair didn't end with the fairy tale Happily Ever After, Julie leaves town to pursue her dream of being a dancer. As fate has a curious sense of humor, eight years later, they wake up in bed together. Now it is up to love to fix what time cannot mend.
Five years - Julie hadn't seen or thought about him in all that time, and now in the middle of nowhere, he stood on the beach drying off from a swim. Droplets flew as Robert shook his hair. His black mane was shorter than the last time she saw him. The wet ends dripped water on his bare, muscular shoulders. Tricia, an old high school friend once said he had the body of a male stripper - time hadn't changed that.
She stepped back onto the beach path, transfixed by the sight of the one person she hated. Her repulsion and loathing of him ran so deep; she'd repressed all memories of him. She thought he'd loved her, and had taken a chance, opening up her heart and body to him. But, instead of returning her love, he proved himself worthy of the gutter from which he'd crawled.
Her body said run, but her feet refused to move as she watched a long-legged, svelte, golden blonde rise from the beach chair. She trickled her fingers down his rippled stomach. His voice floated across the sand. It was a calming sound, which had brought a smile to her face when he whispered words of love and passion in her ear.
Details she thought she'd long forgotten surged forward. She remembered the way his dark eyes smoldered with anger and his sly, innocent grin. His joyous laughter had made her feel the abandonment of a child frolicking in the year's first snowfall. She stepped backward onto the path, distancing herself from the lovers as the blonde undid the strings on her bathing suit top, and let it fall to the sand.
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Comment on as many blogs as you can. Here's the link to help you continue.
1. Paddy O'furniture
2. A Sham Rock
3. When it's a FRENCH fry
4. He gets wet