Fragile Magic
Capricorn
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Goat Roper
  
Halfway between Margaritaville and Detox....
Posts: 5,644
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Post Rank: 14
2005 Yamaha AR230HO
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Posted: Mar. 18 2007,12:03 pm |
Post # 8 |
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| Quote (AZKC @ Mar. 17 2007,9:08 am) | Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you?"
Flynn said, "Why you say such a mean thing?"
"Well," Mary said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly.....it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
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Paddy, on the other hand, was so drunk that when he fell off of his bar stool, he could not regain his feet. Since it was after closing time and no on left to help him, and being a man of pride who lived only a short distance from O'Mally's pub, he decided to do what any proud Irishman would do and he started to crawl home.
Paddy tried two or three times to regain his feet on the short crawl home, but to no avail, the world was still spinning too hard all around him.....
When he arrived at his house, he made sure he was very quiet as he crawled up the stairs and into bed, quiet as a churchmouse.....He had pulled it off, his missus was still sleeping soundly...
Early the next morning he was greeted with frying pan upside the head startling him awake. Having just pulled off the perfect drinkin crime with his buddy Flynn, this wake up call totally surprised him......Through bloodshot eyes he asked "What the 'ell was that for!!!"
His wife just stood there with a scowl on her face, and said....
It's O'Malley on the phone from the pub........You left your wheelchair there again!!!
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3-21-2026 Three Word Post.....The Next Generation.... (Rep.#20,137) from: GoFastRacer
It is one of those phrases popular in the Anglo-Saxon imagination as being typically 'Irish' (along with 'begorrah' and many another).
