by tanguerra on Tue Jul 31, 2007 3:10 am
<stumbles into the tavern, straightens bandana, flicks hair over shoulder>
Oy! Yaaarrrr! Whatever is that foul stench! Good evenin' to yez Gents. I'll have a couple o them Captain's Delights and a rum chaser my good fellow. Better line up three for Toothless Kate (my entourage, y'know, she's just tyin' up the dinghy and in the foulest temper I've seen this week, so let's not rile her any further). There's a dear man, if ye know what's good for ye and keepin the peace and so on and so forth.
Great Flying Spaghetti Monsters, is there no spittoons in this establishment! Oh well!
Howz about a sea shanty then! What's a tavern without a sea shanty or two! Back where I'm from it's all sea shanties and mechanical bulls in a tavern. They be all the go in the most disrespectable quarters of Port O Spain.
Here's one I learned from dear old Capn Google for yez all to enjoy:
I bang on the door but she won't let me in
'Cause you're sick and tired of me reeking of gin
You lock all the doors from the front to the back
and left me a note telling me I should pack
I walk in the bar and the fella's all cheer
Order me up a whiskey and beer
If you're asking me why I'm writing this poem
Some call it a tavern but I call it home
(Altogether now...)
F*** yez I'm drunk, f*** yez I'm drunk
Pour my beer down the drain, I've got more in the trunk
F*** yez I'm drunk, f*** yez I'm drunk
And I'm gonna be drunk 'til the next time I'm drunk
You've given me an option, you said I must choose
'tween you and the liquor, then I'll take the booze
I'm jumpin' on Western down to the south side
Where I'll sit down and exercise my Irish Pride