antipaucity

fighting the lack of good ideas

paddy’s bricks

So I write this note to tell you of my plight
At the time of writing I am not a pretty sight
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly gray
So I write this note to say why Paddy’s not at work today

While working on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear
And to throw them down from off the top seemed quite a good idea
But the gaffer wasn’t very pleased, he was an awful sod
He said I had to cart them down the ladder in me hod.

To clear away those bricks by hand, to me seemed very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below
But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks is heavier than me.

So when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
I shot up like a rocket and to my dismay I found
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

Well the barrel broke my shoulder as towards the ground it sped
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with me head
I held on tight, though numb with shock from this almighty blow
While the barrel spilled out half its bricks fourteen floors below

Now when those building bricks fell from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel and I started down once more
I held on tightly to the rope as I flew to the ground
And I landed on the broken bricks that were scattered all around.

Now as I lay there on the deck I thought I’d passed the worst
But when the barrel reached the top, that’s when the bottom burst
A shower of bricks rained down on me, I didn’t have no hope
And in all of this confusion, I let go the bloody rope.

The barrel again being heavier, it started down once more
And landed right on top of me as I lay on the floor
It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I can only say
That I hope you’ll understand why Paddy’s not at work today.

tim finnegan’s wake

To the Irish! As copied from Wikipedia:

Tim Finnegan lived in Watlin Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd;
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
Now, Tim had a bit of the tipplers way
With a love for the liquor poor Tim was born
And to send him on his way each day
He had a drop of the Craythur every morn.

Whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Round the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn’t it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan’s wake!

One mornin’ Tim felt rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
They wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed,
With a barrel of whiskey at his feet
And a gallon of porter at his head.

Whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Round the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn’t it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan’s wake!

His friends assembled at the wake
And the widow Finnegan called for lunch,
First she laid out tay and a cake
Then pipes, tobacca’ and whiskey punch.
Then Biddy O’Brien began to cry
“Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
Tim avourneen, why did you die?”,
“Will ye hould your gob?” said Paddy McGee!

Whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Round the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn’t it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan’s wake!

Then Peggie O’Connor took up the job
“O Biddy,” says she, “You’re wrong, I’m sure”
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawlin’ on the floor.
‘then the war did soon engage
It was woman to woman and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began.

Whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Round the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn’t it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan’s wake!

Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed, and landed on the bed
And the whiskey scattering over Tim!
Bedad he revives and see how he rises
Timothy risin’ from the dead,
Says, “Flingin that whiskey around like blazes”
“Thunderin’ Jesus do you think I’m dead?”

Whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Round the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn’t it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan’s wake!

yay for vacations

I just had a great week. From the afternoon (UTC) of 28 Nov through the afternoon (EST) of 7 Dec, I had no internet access.

And until 0100 (EST) of 7 Dec, I had no access to my phone. It was phenomenal. And I didn’t miss anything “important”, either.

This is the first multi-day break I’ve taken since last year in March. Turns out there’s a reason vacation time exists. HP has a company shutdown at the end of the year, so while I got back from the UK just early Sunday morning (local), I had only enough time to do laundry and adjust my body clock to ‘normal’ time again before getting on a plane and spending 2 weeks in Denver at another customer.

So it’s an odd intermission – 2 weeks of work before being off for two more weeks, but it’ll be nice to be home for a couple weeks. And the parents and sis will be down for Christmas this year, and that’ll be fun, too.