Gumbud Leisurely Scribbles (part 3)

You should not drink and drive.

Shouldn’t that be ‘You should not drink and DIVE’

Yes that as well.
Or use machinery.

I agree whenever I drive and drink my cup spilleth over - the cold drinks are OK but the hot ones do burn a bit - like having sex with a fiery queen [in the old world term of queen please!]

Talking about drinking.
This is a very old Dublin song about a lady who was over fond of a drink, it was most unusual for a woman to enter a public house unaccompanied in those days, I didn’t know this till recently but the “Heart of the Rowl” mentioned refers to the very centre of a roll of tobacco, the best part, when Tobacco used to come off the ships in rolls to be processed at either of the two big Wills Imperial Tobacco factories in the city, I believe they were very good employers to their workers. The expression simply meant you are the best. I’m afraid I don’t know the writer to credit him/her, but the Dubliners sing it and it’s on youtube if you want to hear it.

DICEY REILLY

Oh poor old Dicey Reilly, she has taken to the sup
And poor old Dicey Reilly, she will never give it up
It’s off each morning to the pop that she goes in
for another little drop
But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly

She will walk along Fitzgibbon Street with an independent air
And then its down by Summerhill, and as the people stare
She’ll say, "It’s nearly half passed one
Time I went in for another little one
But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly
Now at two, pubs close and out she goes as happy as a lark
She’ll find a bench to sleep it off at St. Patrick’s Park
She’ll wake at five feeling in the pink
And say, "Tis time for another drink
But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly

Now she’ll travel far to a dockside bar to have another round
And after one or two or three she doesn’t feel quite so sound
After four she’s a bit unstable
After five underneath the table
But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly

Oh they carry her home at twelve o’clock as they do every night
Bring her inside, put her on the bed and then turn out the light
Next morning she’ll get out of bed
And look for a cure for her head
But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly.

the snug bar comes to mind - my grandmother and her sister used to ‘pop’ down once a week as if breakin the law!

@ 17 years old, some of my mates had the urge to visit the “Snug”, what the hell was wrong with them when, all the Birds were in the Lounge next door?

I used to go regularly to my local pubTHE ICE HOUSE after the youth club finished for the night, I was 16 or 17 but looked much older.
On my 18th birthday I celebrated at the ICE HOUSE, I ignored the rebuffs from the old gits in the corner and sat in one bloke’s seat when he went for a pee.
Worse still I won the meat draw. I was young, I didn’t care.

Many years later I went on a working men’s club coach outing to Weymouth, and won the meat draw for the 2nd time in my life. This was midday & the coach didn’t leave until. 5pm I trawled the shopping centre dripping blood from the pathetic carrier bag supplied.
I don’t expect many of you to know what a meat draw is & I shan’t tell you

Yes, I know, getting a prize in a carrier bag was a night wasted.

Dreams funny things heh –like out of this world, on your own film set, brief and intense and then gone!

As I catnapped this morning I drifted into a light sleep and had a dream

I was in a city meeting people, some friends I knew, others strangers and a lovely girl. I say girl rather than lady, as she seemed to be no older than 18. I was meeting all these male characters in a large hotel within a shopping mall. It could have been New York, Hong Kong any large city. We were arranging meetings to discuss and develop workshops, [my trade in life] and then there appeared out of nowhere this ‘girl’. She didn’t have a name but who cared she didn’t need one. We where in a room with an old Asian friend chatting to him as he shaved, we were obviously heading out somewhere. And there she was standing beside me just watching him shave and listening to our chatter. I can’t remember when I lightly placed my right arm on her shoulder but there it was resting lightly, as we both looked into the mirror and I chatted. She remained silent.

And as his shave was coming to an end it happened – I may have increased my pressure on her shoulder slightly or she may have just leaned in towards me, but it happened – it was a casual but clearly determined hug which we both participated in. That was the magic moment and I had a chance briefly a little later to tell her so and then as I stood their clutching her she disappeared and I awoke.

Robert I need a lilting poem!!

The word is ‘LEGS’. Let’s spread the word.

one could get very crossed about this! but if it’s spreadable let’s see how far it can spread.

I once saw a guy ‘spreadeagled’ and he was mumbling something about revenge? mind you there are a range of ‘spreadeagled’ movements - well two come to mind either shared or alone in meditation?

What a combination, meat and legs. Some want more meat on their legs others want less meat on their legs. We had a butchers shop next door to a big workshop I once worked in, some Friday nights when he closed up his shop he would come in to the workshop with a trolly load of Lambs legs, fresh as a daisy they were and he was flogging them off at £1 a leg, I used to get two, one the mother in law and the other for my own mother, I needn’t tell you I was the blue eyed boy during the Lamb season.:lol:

I do remember the meat in the workmen’s club we had on the Quays here RJ, they had a dart competition on Friday nights for a ‘Wrap up’ consisting of a joint of roast beef, sausages, rashers, and two rings of black and white pudding, they played doubles each winner getting a wrap up, I was lucky enough to have a great player as my partner one night and he carried me all the way to victory, it was worth putting up with his curses at me for my lousy throwing.:slight_smile:

There seems to be nothing but misery in the news lately, the World is in a sorry state God help us all. Maybe this’ll cheer you all up.:smiley:

In every other song that I’ve heard lately
Some fellow gets shot
And his baby and his best friend both die with him
As likely as not
In half of the other songs
Some Cat’s crying or ready to die
We’ve lost most of our happy people
And I’m wondering why.

[Chorus:]
Let’s think about living
Let’s think about loving
Let’s think about the whoopin’ and hoppin and boppin’
And the lovie, lovie dovin’
Let’s forget about the whinin’ and the cryin’
And the shooting and the dying
And the fellow with a switchblade knife
Let’s think about living
Let’s think about life.

We lost old Marty Robbins
Down in old El Paso a little while back
And now Miss Patti Page or one of them
Is a-wearing black
And Cath’s Clown has Don and Phil
Where they feel like a they could die
If we keep on a-losin’ our singers like that
I’ll be the only one you can buy’

Bob Luman.

Gumbud. I read your dream with mounting trepidation
Wondering whether there’d be some culmination
As events were getting hot under the collar
I would have waged my very last dollar
But you were a gent to the last
Letting this episode go right past

I have vivid dreams at night
Giving nurse Gillian, quite a fright.
Something is wrong with my brain
Cos real & dreamt to me are the same
I act out what the dreams about
And kick and punch and loudly shout
Nurse Gill , don’t worry, is safely tucked away
Making sure I’m facing the other way

Well done RJ, just what the Doctor ordered.:wink:

who needs doctor when ya gettin hot under the collar?

Ta JB - sometimes it’s not fun bein a gent!

We stood so close
a gosamer thread could not rest
I laid my hand upon her gentle neck
I think I felt her touch upon my waist
But somehow couldn’t make the full embrace

RJ you bring out my beast!

Thread softly on my drunken head,
When I am fast asleep
Come tomorrow I may be dead
And you’ll be free to laugh, or weep.

Nicked the opening bit of that from Yates, the poor fella was so mad about about another mans wife that he could never have any peace, the things they do for love.:slight_smile:

Thanks brothers

A change of mood

The world it seems is disaster bidden
Love for now is deeply hidden
What is wrong with this Earthly race
Hate and death in every place

Why do the nations rage
Causing chaos, unchecked outrage
When will it ever come to an end
We’ll learn too late, too late , my friend

So true RJ, sad the way things are in the World today, I’m afraid it gets to us all eventually.

My apologies to Mr Yeats for spelling his name wrong, anyway why couldn’t he have an ordinary Irish name like Kelly, now take Ned Kelly, he kept the law on their toes for a while, the original ‘Tin Man’:slight_smile:

Yeats and Lady Gregory were directors of the Abbey Theatre in 1907 when a riot broke out over J.M. Singe’s “Playboy of the Western World”, all over a Womans undergarment.

“ The play described as “a vile and inhuman story told in the foulest language we have ever listened to from a public platform”, and with the pretext of a perceived slight on the virtue of Irish womanhood in the line “a drift of females standing in their shifts” (a shift being a female undergarment), a significant portion of the crowd rioted, causing the remainder of the play to be acted out in dumb show. Nevertheless, press opinion soon turned against the rioters and the protests petered out” Wiki.