From The Love Of My Life..

It is time to change from REDNECK humor to TRUE AMERICAN Humor!
Only it isn't seen as HUMOR, but the Correct way to LIVE YOUR LIFE !

If you feel the same, Pass this on to your True American friends.
Y'all know Who they are...

You Might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: It Never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, 'One nation, under God.'

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've never protested About seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public places.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You still say 'Christmas' instead of 'Winter Festival.'

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You bow your head when Someone prays.

You Might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play theNational Anthem.

You Might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've Never burned an American flag.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You know what you believe and you aren't Afraid to say so, no matter who is listening.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You respect your elders And expect your kids to do the same.

You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You'd give your last Dollar to a friend.

I Believe that most, like me, have just enough TRUE AMERICAN In them to have the same Beliefs as those talked about in this post.

God Bless The U S A ! Amen

AND PLEASE DO NOT FORGET TO SING THE NATIONAL ANTHEM IN ENGLISH.

By the Grace of God and the Luck of the Irish; The Brass Dragon

I have been noticed by the Lords of Blog!

Thank you for the meme, I was feeling left out.
The rules: add your name to the list,
Pick five people and notify them,
List your five favorite eating spots at your location.
The List:
Nicole (Sydney, Australia)
velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)
LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)
Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)
Olivia (London, England)
ML (Utah, United States)
Lotus (Toronto, Canada)
tanabata (Saitama, Japan)
Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)
Lulu (Chicago, Illinois, United States)
Chris (Boyne City, Michigan, United States)
AB (Cave Creek, Arizona, United States)
Johnny Yen (Chicago, Illinois, United States)
Bubs (Mt Prospect, Illinois, United States)
Mob (Midland, Texas United States)
Yas (Ahwatukee, Arizona USA)
RSP (Scottsdale, AZ USA)
Ralphd00d (Phoenix, AZ USA)
DW (South East US)


1) Tango du Chat (Dance of the Cat)

French influences, good sea food, and the chef does the cooking. Most times the chef trains and directs. Here the chef cooks and he loves to innovate. Just stroll in, order a good beer, they have several, and have the hottie to tell the Chef to do something that will be good. Prepare to drool. Not cheap, but excellent.


2) Toscona
Italian, dim romantic, excellent house wines, and again a Chef in the house. Plan on two bottles of wine, red sauce with your favorite food beast, excellent pasta. Again not cheap, but worth it.


3) Something Fishy
This is a local "fish camp" type place as we call them. If it doesn't swim, don't bother. Except for the great hush puppies and coleslaw, seafood is all they do. Get the large three item seafood platter with scallops, oysters, and shrimp. You can have broiled or fried. Be sure to have a monster appetite. This is the working mans dinner, very reasonable.


4)Flaming Amy's
One entree, burrito. You can, however, get anything on it. They are huge, betcha' can't eat more than one. Mexican influence, (big surprise) salsa bar, wall of flame (hot sauces) . Six bucks for a meal.


5) Goody Goody Omelet House
This is a working mans (or ladies) eatery. Three bucks will get you a basic breakfast with eggs, toast, grits and coffee. A little more will get you fed to the gills. The folks there are life long egg flippers who can turn your average cackle berry into a work of art. I'm salivating as I write this. There are a few of these in town, Jimbo's and the White Front get a photo finish,

Bonus,,,

1)Mrs. Helen's Cajun Seafood in Lafayette Louisiana, the love of my life and I go every time we pass on I 10. We order an Alligator Sampler and a Crawfish Sampler, and eat like we stole it, we eat off each others plates, the other customers must think were crazy or starving.

2)Gino's Pizza in Chicago. They have changed hands, but a few years ago, it was all I could do to eat a personal sized pan pizza.

3) Anything on Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco.

4) Irish Stew at Dirty Nelly's pub in Bunratty Ireland.

5) In the back streets of Paris, a few blocks from The Sorbonne, there is a small restaurant that showcases the food of the central plateau in France. Local wines, home made sausages, stuffed cabbage and a blue berry creme brule that you would rassle your Grannie for. It's been a few years but I can remember the garden in the courtyard and our table in the corner. If the good lord lets me live and do well, I will go back. The restaurants in the latin quarter have window displays of the raw ingrediants as a come on, these folks do not. I belive the only advertisement is word of mouth.

Happy St. Patricks Day

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
The Sun shine warm upon your face,
The Rains fall softly on your fields,
And until we meet again ,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand,
May the Lord bless you and keep you,
May the Lord cause his face to shine upon you
and give you peace

This is St Peters Church, The Rock Cashel.

I sit here with a Guinness in hand, I wish each and every one of you the best, on this festive occasion.

And Lastly, may you be in Heaven an hour, before the Devil knows you're dead!

The Big Rock

I have made comment about a certain lack of judgement on my part. It's true, I try to do better, but sometimes I get distracted, and forget to think about what the heck I am about to screw up. Sometimes I trust the wrong people, like family, like my sister. Especially my sister. I think I may have mentioned that she stopped some of my cousins from hanging me with the plow lines, so she could enjoy the job her self. ( I was small and unarmed at the time.)

I don't visit anymore because I have learned that my immediate family expects me to be incredibly gullible. I am expected to believe the most barefaced lie, even when I was there when the lie was concocted. It's just waaaay too much trouble and too stressful.

A long time ago, before I came to my senses, and disappeared, I went to visit my sister. I know she was never very fond of me. The fact that she wouldn't let anyone kill me, was colored by little acts like gouging me in the eye with a finger when no one was looking. She had a small lapse in judgement her ownself, she allowed me to get bigger than her, and faster. She has never whipped me in the first quarter mile.

I used to go to redneck country fairly often. I always carry a weapon, now, when I go to those places. I forgot once, no more.

Most people think they know what a red neck is, they don't. If they ever find themselves face to face with a true, mountain born, inbred, ignorant, trouble making, person of the redneck variety, and survive, their laundry person will likely be very miffed. My sister is a card carrying, charter member of that society.

My sister lived in one of those places where there are shoes available, but only for Sunday Prayer Meeting. Most of her neighbors were too far away to give you a clue as to the local environment. There are some state institutions around there, prisons and such. There are also one or two private businesses. One of those was The Big Rock.

The Big Rock was a "club" where locals would gather to play pool, listen to a little music, and perhaps have an adult beverage. Unfortunately, they had no licence, for anything, particularly the liquor in those Mason jars. The pool table (1) had one light bulb, maybe 40watt, and the building had no windows. I mean really there's nothing to see here, so why would you need windows. The field, I mean parking lot, was most always full. The Big Rock that gave the club it's name was right in front of the door, in the perfect place to keep a car from getting too close to the patrons. It also would give good cover if the party inside spilled over to the road.

My sibling was a regular to the place and for some reason wanted to introduce me to the owner of this little cabaret. As I mentioned earlier, I most always carry a handgun when in that area and I'm not terrible about leaving it lay about. I would wear a bomber jacket with a slit pocket on the inside, and put a revolver in there. Except this time, I left it in the glove box. We wheeled up to the club, hopped out and strolled in.

Oh! Damn!

There had to be fifty or sixty people in there, and when we broke the plane of the door, it was like everyone was frozen in their tracks. Don't run they can smell your fear! About that time if anyone had flinched you could have smelled me all the way to the county line. Keep moving and try to make believe the whites of your eyes always look like search lights. I told me "fool, fool, fool, you have left your gun at home"! What, exactly, I would have done with a revolver, at that point I have NO idea. Try to put out the lights and then hide? Dive under the pool table and use it like a hammer to smack toes? Shoot myself to save them the trouble? I saw people that I worked with every day, and they wouldn't meet my eyes or speak. The only thing I could remember was the news article about the prison guard who caught his wife's boyfriend there, held him against the wall with a shotgun, and then had someone else cut him up with a straight razor. Fun loving lot there!

While all the bad things are going through my head, I am following my sister to the back, to be introduced to the owner. He turned out to be a very nice man, who offered me his hand, I was more than glad to shake it. When I did, the party started back up.

Sis, on the other hand, was totally oblivious to everything. I should have remembered, she would never let anything bad happen to me, she wants to do the job herself.

It's positively amazing how much stuff can whirl between your ears when you think it's about to drop into the pot.

A touch of the Irish

OK, I'm Irish. Hate me, or Love me, I don't care.

One of the things I love is a touch of the Irish. Powers, Jameson, whatever!

Today it's the Killbeggen.

The peat, the smoke, the wood.

I have too few memories of the peat fire, the cold rain, and the relief from the cares of this world, but lads and ladies I'm work'in on it!

I have a month of night shift to work, and guess which coleen is rockin' me to sleep.