Okay, it happened again, can ya blame me?
Consumed some time back at A Terrible Beauty. A nearish-by Irish joint serving up publy grub.
And the pot o’ gold? Stuffed, there’s ooey-mcgooey Dubliner cheese in there, you know …
… but no longer onion.
Sharing their raw bite with the table grain as opposed to with my burger. Cook an onion, and it’s in. Don’t, it’s out.
A pair of double “D’s”, if you will. Oh, the perils of alliterated initials.
I’m a common tater.
It’s no corned beef n’ cabbage, but its spudly quotient still fits the bill. If we’re talking a couple centuries ago, at least. Other stereotypes- red hair. How neither my sister nor I are redheads- what with my dad and his green eyes and once red beard- is beyond me. And he’s not even the mostly Irish parent. Cousins from his side all sport a lovely auburn. I may as well from time to time, but I need a little help from Miss Clairol. Still, it’s like the sweet potato said, “I yam what I yam.” Or was that Popeye? He’d fit right in today, with that can of greens.
Heck, even my strawberries know when to don the green. A little hat for each, they must know it was snowing outside earlier! I sure did. Listening to the tunes of the latest Cranberries album. The most morose of lyrics sung in the most upbeat of manners. Can always count on them to put a little beauty into misery.
What a day for crazy!
Yesterday: Geese strolling the freeway- count it an impromptu brake test! That, or a new way to cook a goose.
Slippin’ chicken. The thing evacuated my sandwich via an over slather of sauce, rolled off the lap, and onward to the floor. Took the sauce with it. Went the way of that poor meatball. I know I’m saucy, but that was ridiculous.
A man on the move leering at me from out his passenger’s side window while stopped at an intersection. Grunting. Really, please, keep your blarney to yourself. I like monkeys, but don’t be an ape.
And that was just five minutes of the day.
Today: Keep calm and leprechaun.* ♦
*This cheese brought to you by Dublin.
Care to share?