Have just spent a delightful afternoon at Englishman's barbecue - sunshine, good food and wine, and scintillating company. Mr. dubinapub was there, singing Irish rebel songs and passing round illicit liquor.
We used to have an LP of Irish rebel songs so I could have come and sung along "oh my father he was orange and my mother she was green"... something like that.
Actually we were drinking Irish poteen and singing about some obscure Irish chap called Kevin Barry.
Belmont, you missed the party that followed in the pub, dub in the pub was found to have been spiking the drinks and was roundly admonished by the Landlady. I just gotta get this guy out from the dubs, he's too much of a genuine person to be a JW.
It was a great day, we have still got 15 bottles of wine left and numerous tinnies of draught bitter. The lawn is looking a little hammered, Her Ladyship counted the number of guests at 89.
Englishman.
..... fanaticism masquerading beneath a cloak of reasoned logic.