It's Saint Patrick's Day here in the United States. Unlike the Emerald Isle, the snakes are out in full force and I worry each and every time I let the dog out. It's also traditional here to drink oneself silly on this day. AN activity I may no longer participate in as the consequences are dire. Where normal folk eventually conclude they have had enough, I can only say, "Another round, barkeep." Even if I've fallen off my barstool a half dozen times already. Then there is the pugilism streak. Like all small men, I think I'm indefeatable when I have a quart of whiskey in me. And Lord help us all if it's been hard cider, AKA "Johnny Jump Up" that I've been drinking -- then I want to take on the whole bar. Only Tequila makes me meaner. But let's just enjoy the lyrics to the traditional humorous poke at ourselves the Irish call "Johnny Jump Up"
Oh never, Oh never, Oh never again
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and tenI fell to the ground and I couldn't get upAfter drinking a quart of the Johnny Jump Up