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R. Linda:
A colleague of mine from the other place I used to work, was hired to work here. She came in this morning and I was shocked to see her smilin' face after all this time. She be in the cubical next to mine and she's from Ireland, the northern part oddly enough. She had been an invited guest at me wedding and after our gushing over the fact we were working together she asked after Tonya, and I told her I have two boyos now as well and our little family was still living up in Narnia, and we were all very happy. She told me she was engaged to a "boy from back home," and that he was going to join her in the States as soon as he could find a job here. So we caught up as she unpacked her things to set up shop.
"Me sister Rose be here. Gabe, if ye weren't hitched I'd have introduced ya. She's lookin' for a man she be, but has coom up short." Here she sighed as she unpacked, thinking of her lovely single sister of whom I have never laid eyes, so no clue if she be butt ugly or, the lovely single sister Maureen was making her out. She looked at me thoughtfully and then said, "Who was the major hottie that was yer best man at yer weddin' he'd be perfect fer Rose."
Uh oh. No, no, no, the major hottie be one Wolfie and well, I told her he be in a land far far away and married with kiddies and I hadn't seen him in a donkeys years.
She thought a moment, "Well, that's too bad it is, Rose would have been heads over the likes of em'. I guess Rose will have to go to the boozer down the street and see wot pickin's they be there." OH SIGH.
"Why don't you look around here, there be some single laddies here," I offered looking around at fat paunched Martin, and skinny Jonas. Em, no, I thought. Then I remembered there be abrasive Eric downstairs and his cohort Scott. Scott was a good lookin' guy but a little too taken with himself, but I didn't know Rose and maybe she be the same way. I suggested I introduce her to a few of these wonders and get a little craic going between them and who knows?
"Shure be better than her drinkin herself into oblivion o'er it. Maybe she'll find a ride or maybe not," she mused. "the pub was wedged but good the other night, but most of the lads were sucking the iron down and suooch rowdies ya never did want ta see."
"Bad time, hey? Well, me sainted mam always told me the best single people to meet are those of your friends, not what turns up in a pub drinking Guinness."
"Ah and fer shure, fer shure on that Gabe. Hey, wot about that other friend of yers, the blondie, the tall lanky drink of whiskey with the strange sense of humour?"
OH MY GOD NO, NO, NO! She was talking WEASIL. I almost choked on me bucket of coffee.
"Oh no, he's married too and has kiddies as well. Anyway, he's back in the UK someplace," I said and then muttered to meself, "probably annoying everyone there."
"Go away outta that!" She laughed.
"No, really I be serious, someone actually married his arse and procreated more weasils. It's scary I tell ya Maureen."
"No foolin'? I had great banter out of him. The craic he offered up was ninety it was, I thought the lad was a ride I did. But now that I tink on it, yer right that lad was a header fer shure.
"Crazier than a loon," I agreed. "Any opportunity to make a holy show, and Weas be there."
"Well, he waltzed on over to me and I thought he was a winner."
"Nah, he had too much of the drink but he has a hollow leg he does, so you'd not know unless ya knew him." I offered up in way of an excuse for Weasil's crazy behaviour. Intoxication was a good excuse.
"So yer tellin' me he was stocious."
"Yup, head in the bottle." I sighed.
"Go way outta that, really?"
"Really," I said. "I wouldn't lie ta ya Maureen." Oh yes I would, when it comes to Weasil I do things I normally wouldn't. "He was gee-eyed as a squirrel on drugs."
"No . . . he wasn't." She said half believing me.
"Oh yeah he was."
"Nooo," She still was in denial. "Well, the laddie must have some single friends, he be about Rose's age he be, so . . .?"
"The laddie be a muck savage he be, he AND his friends."
"Really? He didn't seem the culchie to me."
"And, between you and me the lad is an awful scab, he's Scottish, so . . . I be sure his friends be that way too."
"You tellin' me he won't part with a dime? Stingy Scot you say?" She was incredulous.
Either he came off rather too well or I was doing a bad job of dissing him.
"Well, I be scarlet for him if that be true." She said finally unpacked.
I dodged a bullet on that one. What I do know is he be on his way to the States. 25 January be the arrival date and we should all scatter to the hills, so forewarned is forearmed. I be tellin' this now so you don't get upset I should disappear and go silent for a week. The last thing I want to do is introduce Weasil to Maureen's sister. Married or not, the Weasil would have a great time with a new drinking buddy and Rose sounds like that to me. Weasil has a way about him, of when with new people he's a charmer he be, but he's always up to no good and I can almost picture it. THIS: we are out at a Boston pub, Rose comes in, Weasil charms the drink into her and then gets her married to paunchy old Martin or worse abrasive Eric, or worse than that, one of his weasily friends. Then for the rest of me days I get to hear how unhappy Rose be married to one or the other of them. Guaranteed, this would be a Weasil adventure in intoxication and other stupid Weasil tricks. I want no part in it, and I be sure Maureen doesn't believe me on what I said about the bad boy. She sees him as a possible husband introducer for her sister. Yeah, Weasil will find her a husband, no doubt in me mind.
I know if he can't get me at home, he'll come waltzin' into me place of employment, and I know Maureen will recognise his . . . what did she call him? Oh yeah, his blond, lanky drink of whiskey, humourous grinning face and I will have to be a party to the awful, dreadful time that would follow. Oi!
Ya gotta help me here, think of something before this all comes to pass and I regret being alive.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
A colleague of mine from the other place I used to work, was hired to work here. She came in this morning and I was shocked to see her smilin' face after all this time. She be in the cubical next to mine and she's from Ireland, the northern part oddly enough. She had been an invited guest at me wedding and after our gushing over the fact we were working together she asked after Tonya, and I told her I have two boyos now as well and our little family was still living up in Narnia, and we were all very happy. She told me she was engaged to a "boy from back home," and that he was going to join her in the States as soon as he could find a job here. So we caught up as she unpacked her things to set up shop.
"Me sister Rose be here. Gabe, if ye weren't hitched I'd have introduced ya. She's lookin' for a man she be, but has coom up short." Here she sighed as she unpacked, thinking of her lovely single sister of whom I have never laid eyes, so no clue if she be butt ugly or, the lovely single sister Maureen was making her out. She looked at me thoughtfully and then said, "Who was the major hottie that was yer best man at yer weddin' he'd be perfect fer Rose."
Uh oh. No, no, no, the major hottie be one Wolfie and well, I told her he be in a land far far away and married with kiddies and I hadn't seen him in a donkeys years.
She thought a moment, "Well, that's too bad it is, Rose would have been heads over the likes of em'. I guess Rose will have to go to the boozer down the street and see wot pickin's they be there." OH SIGH.
"Why don't you look around here, there be some single laddies here," I offered looking around at fat paunched Martin, and skinny Jonas. Em, no, I thought. Then I remembered there be abrasive Eric downstairs and his cohort Scott. Scott was a good lookin' guy but a little too taken with himself, but I didn't know Rose and maybe she be the same way. I suggested I introduce her to a few of these wonders and get a little craic going between them and who knows?
"Shure be better than her drinkin herself into oblivion o'er it. Maybe she'll find a ride or maybe not," she mused. "the pub was wedged but good the other night, but most of the lads were sucking the iron down and suooch rowdies ya never did want ta see."
"Bad time, hey? Well, me sainted mam always told me the best single people to meet are those of your friends, not what turns up in a pub drinking Guinness."
"Ah and fer shure, fer shure on that Gabe. Hey, wot about that other friend of yers, the blondie, the tall lanky drink of whiskey with the strange sense of humour?"
OH MY GOD NO, NO, NO! She was talking WEASIL. I almost choked on me bucket of coffee.
"Oh no, he's married too and has kiddies as well. Anyway, he's back in the UK someplace," I said and then muttered to meself, "probably annoying everyone there."
"Go away outta that!" She laughed.
"No, really I be serious, someone actually married his arse and procreated more weasils. It's scary I tell ya Maureen."
"No foolin'? I had great banter out of him. The craic he offered up was ninety it was, I thought the lad was a ride I did. But now that I tink on it, yer right that lad was a header fer shure.
"Crazier than a loon," I agreed. "Any opportunity to make a holy show, and Weas be there."
"Well, he waltzed on over to me and I thought he was a winner."
"Nah, he had too much of the drink but he has a hollow leg he does, so you'd not know unless ya knew him." I offered up in way of an excuse for Weasil's crazy behaviour. Intoxication was a good excuse.
"So yer tellin' me he was stocious."
"Yup, head in the bottle." I sighed.
"Go way outta that, really?"
"Really," I said. "I wouldn't lie ta ya Maureen." Oh yes I would, when it comes to Weasil I do things I normally wouldn't. "He was gee-eyed as a squirrel on drugs."
"No . . . he wasn't." She said half believing me.
"Oh yeah he was."
"Nooo," She still was in denial. "Well, the laddie must have some single friends, he be about Rose's age he be, so . . .?"
"The laddie be a muck savage he be, he AND his friends."
"Really? He didn't seem the culchie to me."
"And, between you and me the lad is an awful scab, he's Scottish, so . . . I be sure his friends be that way too."
"You tellin' me he won't part with a dime? Stingy Scot you say?" She was incredulous.
Either he came off rather too well or I was doing a bad job of dissing him.
"Well, I be scarlet for him if that be true." She said finally unpacked.
I dodged a bullet on that one. What I do know is he be on his way to the States. 25 January be the arrival date and we should all scatter to the hills, so forewarned is forearmed. I be tellin' this now so you don't get upset I should disappear and go silent for a week. The last thing I want to do is introduce Weasil to Maureen's sister. Married or not, the Weasil would have a great time with a new drinking buddy and Rose sounds like that to me. Weasil has a way about him, of when with new people he's a charmer he be, but he's always up to no good and I can almost picture it. THIS: we are out at a Boston pub, Rose comes in, Weasil charms the drink into her and then gets her married to paunchy old Martin or worse abrasive Eric, or worse than that, one of his weasily friends. Then for the rest of me days I get to hear how unhappy Rose be married to one or the other of them. Guaranteed, this would be a Weasil adventure in intoxication and other stupid Weasil tricks. I want no part in it, and I be sure Maureen doesn't believe me on what I said about the bad boy. She sees him as a possible husband introducer for her sister. Yeah, Weasil will find her a husband, no doubt in me mind.
I know if he can't get me at home, he'll come waltzin' into me place of employment, and I know Maureen will recognise his . . . what did she call him? Oh yeah, his blond, lanky drink of whiskey, humourous grinning face and I will have to be a party to the awful, dreadful time that would follow. Oi!
Ya gotta help me here, think of something before this all comes to pass and I regret being alive.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
3 comments:
yeppers like datz gonner happen hehee
Isn't the 25 Burns night? What weasel would miss that? I mean Scotsman? LOL
Em . . . yes it is. I looked I probably am mistaken then. Must be before . . . OMG I hope this doesn't mean another one of those Scottish dinners at me house!
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