It is pouring rain here today in Ireland. Crippled son was at a loose end and I was also and too. Loose, but not as in whoring. God forgive your naughty thoughts.
Crippled son? Long time to heal?
He is fine now but I get a perverse giggle out of calling him crippled son. Why, I don’t know. He is fine with it as long as I don’t out his identity. Surfer dude also does not want to hear if I post about him. You can post about me, he says, just don’t tell me about it. He is currently living in an island off Panama.
Irish-my friends from Dingle and their place of business. They were just over here visiting about a month ago.
Watched this and Megyn looks ready for Trump!
Hysterical! I will never look at a wheely-bin or an Aero the same way again. – or even a Toblerone. 😀
I knew you would enjoy it. It must be our northerly jeans.
What language is this?
Just to be sure, to be sure, I don’t talk like that. I have a more Palin-like accent. 🙂
Did you understand any of it?
Of all the “Irish Humour” posts you have given us, my little granddaughter’s all-time favorite is this – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9PwWq3le9A
To this day, every time she has to go out in the rain she’s says: “I’ll get so-acked. I’ll get dreenched.”
🙂 I love that!
Love those 🙂
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