Two tribes go to war?
Personally, I couldn’t give a fishes-tit for all that race-religeon-culture hate ballocks.
Here’s a typical life moulding experience I’m reminded of:
Back in '73-'74…ish, I was home on leave in Manchester having just completed a tour in West Belfast. I sometime saw, in my local pub, a chap we all knew as Pat. Pat was a Norhtern-Irish-Catholic form West Belfast. He and I had seen each other in the pub many times before and were aware of each other. usually, we exchanged a nod accross the room as we made eye-contact when gulping down the Black-stuff. One evening we were at the piss-stones together, and got into one of those typical conversations regarding recycling the good stuff. We were pleased to discover that we had both tried the obvious method of pissing into a pint glass and drinking it down, and concurred that it had lost its flavour during processing - a bonding moment!
Anyway, one evening I was in a pub, which I hadn’t been in before, wearing a Man. U. scarf, which I had borrowed from one of my brothers. Suddenly, four Man. City fans piled into me. There I was, battling away with my back to the wall when, suddenly, as if from nowhere, Pat comes wading-in. The two of us, together, knocked seven shades out of said City supporters. Afterwards, we spent the rest of the evening singing Irish rebel songs and getting absolutely rat-arsed.
A few days later, I saw Pat again in anohter pub. Here we go, I thought, we’ll have a few bevies, go on a pub-crawl, and find another war to finish off the evening. To my surprise, Pat, came over with a drink for me, and then explained that he was sorry, but word had got about within the ‘Community’ that he had not only been fraternising with a Tommy, but had been teamed up with him in a brawl. he apologised again and said that he’d been warned off and that this would have to be our last drink together. Needless to say, we made a great night of it, but I haven’t seen him since to this day.
So, it’s all ballocks to me. Nothing should be allowed to get in the way of a chaps fun.
[b]As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be,
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be.
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: “Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you can not see That’s a lovely sow that me mother sent to me.”
Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more,
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before. …[/b]
(what eejit wrote ‘fool’ it doesn’t rhym)
