And The Results Are In

 

17 June 2026

1170

R. Linda:

Unfortunately, the first to submit proof of being in their favourite pub were the very two individuals I had been hoping would finish dead last. Fate, as usual, chose differently.

What puzzled me, however, was why these two geniuses sent photographs from a Scottish pub rather than an Irish one, despite both of them living in Ireland. Their defence was that I had said "your favourite pub anywhere in the world." Technically correct, which is the most irritating kind of correct. I didn't mean on holiday, which was why they were in Scotland. What I obviously meant was the pub they haunt often enough for the staff to know their drink before they sit down.

Therefore, in the interests of fairness, justice, and complete unfairness, I disqualified both of these crafty rogues and reassigned them to last place. They are now the proud holders of the coveted title: Donkey Barrel Champions of Regret (their regret that is). A title earned through equal parts cheek, loophole-hunting, and poor judgement.

The rest of the clan kindly provided explanations of where they were, who they were with, and what was happening. Very thoughtful. Almost suspiciously thoughtful. 

When Tomas asked if he could participate, I was genuinely surprised. Why would a sensible man willingly jump into this circus? As he put it, "family be family," and since he played no part in the now legendary Donkey Race Incident, he hoped his involvement might help wash away the bad blood and restore peace to the kingdom.

I informed the young laddie that I was not responsible for starting the ruckus. That honour belongs entirely to his half-brother, enthusiastically encouraged by the diabolical Uncle Jamie, a man who treats bad ideas as if they were Olympic events. Any fellow who downs an entire bottle of Bushmills and then decides he can tame a wild horse in five minutes is either completely mad or missing enough screws to assemble an entirely different person.

I gave him, to give to his uncle at their next family gathering, a copy of the Rolling Stones "Wild Horses." Of course, I added words like "wild, wild horses, can't keep me away from the Bushmills, etc.," Whether it causes emotional distress remains unclear, but the song be coming your way, Uncle Jamie.

I did meet young Tomas in Boston (he said he was flying out from Chicago to Beantown on business) and took him to my favourite pub, the Black Rose. We had a grand time and quickly discovered we had far more in common than either of us expected. Sadly, we failed to produce the sort of deranged photographs submitted by the others, but we did receive assistance from the one and only Ms. Jaio.

Now, I am convinced Ms. Jaio had taken a shine to Tomas. Tomas, meanwhile, was about as aware of this as a brick is aware of weather. Later, I gently informed her that Tomas was married. She immediately denied having any interest whatsoever, which, of course, confirmed everything. i

As for the other one, the Wolf, I had no idea how far he would go for "the commercial," except for the two aforementioned champions of failure, the losers, Jamie and Padraig.

I must admit I took great pleasure in seeing the Wolf caught in a downpour and soaked to the skin. Strangely, the rain seemed unable to diminish his handsome visage, which is frankly annoying. The weather bothered his ex-wife far more, whose birthday celebration happened to be taking place at HIS favourite pub in Belfast, unbeknownst to Himself. 

He described the situation as "awkward as hell," which may be the understatement of the century. Yet there he was, dripping like a rescued Labrador, posing cheerfully for the camera while somehow convincing his ex-wife to join in and look as ridiculous as she could, and she did! What a guy, I tell ya.

I can only imagine how much that grated on him. Still, being the consummate ex-professional model, he revealed none of his true feelings. Watching a man look like a drowned rat while pretending everything is perfectly normal is one of life's simple pleasures. Absolutely priceless. So priceless, I gave him first place for the angst that whole pub episode must have cost him, rain and ex-wife, going against his better judgment, but taking it on the chin.

I did ask if I could share the photos and was met with a yes from some and a no from two, me being one of them, but after much cajoling and bribery, I got permission to post them, only if I blurred them and put me own fizzog in too. I did me best, well, sort of me best on that. I attest I am no photographic genius, without any further ado, here we go:

Photo 1 - Proof of being there - The Dignity:

The two rascals: Jamie & Padraig, at Deacon Brodie's in Edinburgh, Scotland

They said they were in Scotland because of the World Cup and thought it would be great to celebrate with their Scottish cousins. Okay, these two are Scots Irish, so there is that. The World Cup first game for Scotland was held in Boston, with Scotland winning, in case anyone is curious about that outcome. I think the real reason was not so much the World Cup parties in Edinburgh, but the chance to wear skirts and get away with it. Just sayin'.

Photo 2 - Proof of being inside the establishment - The Documentation:

The two hell-raisers inside 

I can just imagine how many of those they downed. And finally, the photo we were all waiting for, I did laugh when I opened it.

Photo 3 - Proof they made a commercial sort of - The Public Embarrassment:

The roped-in bystanders seemed to enjoy the experience, and the too culprits of mayhem seemed to bask in the attention 

That's the kind of photo I should have expected. Fits them perfectly. And neither was embarrassed, which figures; it looks like they took great pride and joy in the whole bloody mess and put some thought into it.

So, onto a gentler scene: Tomas and meself in Boston, USA at the Black Rose Pub. Neither of us neophytes had a clue, as you can see by our photos of proof.

Photo 1 - Proof of being there  - The Dignity:

Tomas and I, he's the handsome one on the right. Yup, little did we know how serious the others would take me challenge 

It was a lovely day in Boston; we were well away from the Scottish invasion at the time, but there were still some kilt-wearers inside. When I showed this photo to him, he remarked that we "look like two fellas who don't know each other," and yeah, I see it; we look tentative, and we didn't know each other.

Photo 2 - Proof of being inside the establishment - The Documentation:

Settled for a great chat and were more relaxed with each other

Me Ms. Jaio was there, and she agreed to assist with our very low-budget commercial.

Photo 3 - Proof we made a commercial sort of - The Public Embarrassment:

The last thing Ms Jaio likes is beer, especially dark beer, thus the face, which seemed to amuse Tomas no end. Our commercial was that even women enjoy Guinness, but you can see that this one does not. She was in fear that Tomas was going to challenge her to drink it. She didn't mind posing with it, she said, but downing it was out of the question.

Ms. Jaio, I already knew would be at the pub. She had to work (the poor dear), so I told her to drop by, and I'd treat her to lunch since I'd be in the vicinity (and needed someone for our proof of commercial, yes, I cheated a little). She held the glass in front of her, which was about all she'd do. She said she couldn't do it, could not drink beer to save her life. Who knew? Tomas convinced her to take one sip, which is why her face in the photo looks like it does. She was afraid he'd ask her to take another, and so the FACE. She tells me she still has the taste of it in her mouth, and we did her no favours. I think I won't hear the end of this for a very long time.

And the winner (mostly because I felt sorry for the trials and tribulations he went through):

Photo 1 - Proof of being there  - The Dignity:

And the rain came down outside Kelly's

Ah, too bad, while all of us were enjoying sunny weather, Belfast, Northern Ireland, had rain. Here is our winner getting drenched in front of Kelly's Cellars.

Photo 2 - Proof of being inside the establishment - The Documentation:

Putting a wet face on it, he did well considering he was soaked

Nothing more itchy than a wet sweater, I imagine. Sigh. 

Photo 3 - Proof he made a commercial sort of - The Public Embarrassment:

Here's the one you might be waiting for. I know I was when I found out this was his ex.

Yessiree, she was a good sport about it, not looking her best, LMAO

I have to wonder how hard that was for him to let her wet self cuddle next to his already wet self, LOL. I am sorry, I can't help but find this humorous. He did say she came in right after he did (which made him suspicious) and was wetter than he was (which secretly warmed his black heart).

And so, me challenge was met, there will be no more mention of that unmentionable race. All is well with everyone, except maybe with Ms. Jaio's disappointment and probably the ex-Sally girl who hoped to maybe win the hubby back? I forgot her name, just remember something about Sally, and I do think she planned to waylaid him and what a birthday present, huh, LOLOLOLOL

Gabe

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