Sunday, March 16, 2008

St. Patrick's Day - Redneck Style

Howdee do! Cletis Clyde here.

Betcha didn't knows that us Rednecks celebrate St. Patrick's Day too. Well, we sure enuff do! We got some Irish blood in us! Ya see, long time ago when them Irish folks was a-flockin' outta the homeland when they had no taters to eat, they come to this here country. Some of them went up Nawth - they was the Cathlicks. Now the Protestants, well, they all come down here to the South instead, on account theys didn't care much for the winters and all that clam chowder.

'Cept'n for our ways of "praisin' the Lawd," we Irish Rednecks are purty much like our Nawthern cousins. Them Cathlicks, they sin all week and then make atonements to a priest who's a hidin' from somebody or somethin' in one of them confession boxes. Then he goes and tells them to say a few 'Hail Marys' and to sin no more until next week.

Well, us Protestants we knows how hard it is not to be a-sinnin.' Now, we do have our own special confession boxes down here. You might knows them better as outhouses! And they's ain't nobody a-hidin' in there to hear 'bout our sins. Iffin we ever found anybody a-hidin' in there, we'd prolly beat the livin' crap outta him and send on his way and tell him 'to sin no more.'

Coz it's like this, we go in there to relieve ourselves of our burdens. We don't want anyone else in there to be a-listenin' or to be a-sniffin' our bizness. We prefers to be in there with just ourselves and the Lawd, and well, maybe a few yeller jackets and flies. What we ask forgiveness for is between us and the Lawd and the person we done sinned with in the first place. Ain't nobody else's bizness! Praise the Lawd and pass the corncob!

Now religion sure ain't the only thing that makes us different. Them Irish up Nawth done went and mixed their brogue with that Yankee accent, and some of them sounds like they's a-talkin' with a shoe in their mouths. You cain't barely make out what they's a-speechifyin' on about. Well, we practice chewin' on our shoes, ifin we have any, when we's youngins. We know that when we get older we jest might be a-stickin' our feet in our mouths from time to time. Bye 'n bye we come to understand our relatives,friends and neighbors when they's a-talkin.'.

Those Irish men up there like to wear those funny-lookin' hats what they call "scully caps." Well, we didn't care none too much for them things. We choose instead to wear baseball caps with "NASCAR" or "John Deere" embroiledered on the fronts.

We Redneck Irish don't rightly take much to a-wearin' green on St. Patrick's Day neither. Frankly, we don't cotton to showin' off our green clothes, coz we are a bit modest when it comes to walkin' around outside in our drawers and bloomers.

You prolly seen them pitchers of them little girls up Nawth a-high steppin' to Irish music, right? Our girls can do that too. 'Cept'n we don't call it step dancin.' I guess it's a kind of a jig, but we calls it 'clod hoppin.' Our girls and boys be a-learnin' to dance like that whiles they's a runnin' and skippin' through the pastures 'round here. You see, they have to, coz iffin they don't, they'll be stepping in the cow piles. If they do wind up a-steppin' in one, then we have a sayin' "the jig is up."

To some of us Rednecks, St. Patrick's Day can be a time for some romancin' too. Iffin' you take some fresh-stilled hooch and add a little green food colorin' you gets some green Irish Moonshine with the kick of a mule!

It jest so happens I was able to snap this here pitcher of Paw a-sittin' on a bench with the widder Johnson. After drinkin' some his special-made brew he was feelin' his wild oats. I 'spect he was a feelin' more than oats though.

'Round our house we don't go much for them corned beef and cabbage dinners on St. Patrick's Day. Mostly that's coz Paw won't let us use any of his corn mash to be used to marinate the beef. Last year Maw decided to cook up some Surf 'n Turf for the big day. So she used up both boxes of Tuna Helper and Hamburger Helper what she had stored in the pantry. I ain't sayin' it tasted bad and I ain't gonna say it tasted good neither, but all the flies what was in the house done got together and took to patchin' up all the holes in the screen door.

While I was a lookin' for some St. Patrick's Days stuff on the conputer, I found this here generator thingie. You jest type in your real name and it up and gives you what your name would be if you was a-livin' over in Ireland. 'Magine? Go right on ahead and try it for yourself. It ain't none too hard either. All you gotta do is to click on the words that says "What's Your Irish Name?" with the line what somebody drawed underneath it.

Your Irish Name Is...

Myles Nolan

Then my eyes was a-buggin' outta my eyeball sockets when I found a pitcher of a lady Leperchaun what is a callin' herself Luna Leprechaun. Lawd All-Mighty, iffin that ain't enuff to make a feller think 'bout packin' his bags and a-high-tailin' it over to Ireland, I cain't think of anything else what is.
~~~Iffin I was able to catch me one them Leperchauns what be lookin' like that and what be shaped like that, ain't no way I would be askin' her to tell me where she done hid her pot of gold! (Iffin you gets my drift.)

Next thing I found was this what follows about beer. So I decided to pop open a cold Carlings (we was outta Pabst) and see what they had to say about beer. I didn't know this stuff. Maybe you don't either.

Some Beer Facts

About 4000 years ago, it was the accepted practice in Babylonia that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer, and because their calender was lunar based, this period was called the "honey month" or what we know to day as the "Honeymoon."

Before the invention of the thermometer, brewers used to check the temperature by dipping their thumb, to find whether appropriate for adding Yeast. Too hot, the yeast would die. This is where we get the phrase " The Rule of the Thumb."

In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender used to yell at them to mind their own pints and quarts and settle down. From there we get "mind your own P's and Q's."

After consuming a vibrant brew called Aul or Ale, the Vikings would go fearlessly to the battlefield, without their armour, or even their shirts. The word "Berserk" means "bear shirt" in norse, and eventually led to the meaning of waging wild battles.

Way down in 1740, the Admiral Veron of the British fleet decided to water down the navy's rum, which naturally, the sailors weren't pleased with. They nicknamed the Admiral Old Grog, after the still stiff grogram coats he used to wear. The term grog soon began to mean the watered down drink itself. When you are drunk on this grog, you are "groggy", a word still in use.

Long ago in England, pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the rim of their beer mugs or ceramic/glass cups. The whistle was used to order services. Thus we get the phrase, "wet your whistle."

Well before I go and take my mid-mornin' nap so's I can rest up for my afternoon nap, here's some Irish toasts and blessin's I found. They's purty gooduns too.
Here's to a long life and a merry one,
A quick death and an easy one,
A pretty girl and an honest one,
A cold beer and another one!
There are many good reasons for drinking,
One has just entered my head.
If a man doesn't drink when he's living,
How in the hell can he drink when he's dead?
May the best day of your past
Be the worst day of your future.

They always get this one wrong! It's s'posed to be "ERIN GO BRA-LESS."

And finally, here's a Redneck Irish blessing for y'all.

May the wind behind you be your own and may your friends be upwind.



OldHorsetailSnake said...

Golly, Pointer, didn't you notice that girl is almost plumbnaked? I don't know where that comes from, but who cares?

Hale McKay said...


Almost plumb naked? Shoot, she was wearing them darned pasties!

Mushy said...

That be a good one!

Hale McKay said...


Thank you, lad. I raise me mug in a toast to you.


Miss Cellania said...

Happy St. Patricks Day, Mike!

Hale McKay said...

Miss C,

Right back atcha!

Serena Joy said...

Well, I see they do St. Paddy's in fine style in redneck territory. LOL.:-)

Hale McKay said...


They do just that, don't they?

That "Surf 'n Turf" sure sounded delicious.?

Skunkfeathers said...

Wahl, Mchorsefeathers...danged if ah didn't almost miss this hyar funny hollerday! Hope y'all didn' get took by no green lepercon...

Hale McKay said...


Ain't seen no green lepercorns, but tarnation iffin' I sure ain't wastin' away the day out h'yere in the outhouse tryin' to un-digest all them green eggs and ham. They wuz green before they wuz cooked!

Buck said...

You mean you gotcher selfs out houses? Aint that what cricks is fer?