DeBlarney DeStone!

Since this issue will fall within St. Patrick’s Day I thought I’d attempt to demystify this whole Blarney Stone thing.

What the hell is it, and why do people go about kissing the damn thing?

I’ve always thought it was some odd looking blue stone found stuck in the sole of your boot while walking through a patch of four leaf clovers, on the third Tuesday of spring, following the first full moon!

In fact that was the story I was told by an Irish fella I met at a pub in California once!  He said if he was down on his luck, all he would have to do is pull it out of his pocket, give it a kiss, then walk into any pub and someone would buy him a pint.

Of course I wanted to see it but he wasn’t going to show it to me because… “No one else can touch it or it will lose its power, besides it has to be kept in the dark while recharging for its next use”. 

So we sit there talking about his adventure of finding this stone while sipping on our beers, and all the while I’m watching out of the corner of my eye as he keeps sticking his hand in his pocket to “see if it’s ready yet”.

Curiosity is getting the best of me, and then all of a sudden he slams down the rest of his beer, quickly reaches into his pocket, brings his hand up to his mouth and kisses it, then just as quickly puts his hand back into his pocket, then gathers up his things as if to leave.

“Hey wait!” I said, while motioning the bartender to give us each another beer, “Come on, just let me see it!” I pleaded, “I won’t touch it, I promise!”  I needed to know more!

“Well me boy” he says with a grin and sits back down, “As I told you it has to be kept in the dark while recharging, but if your quick enough you’ll be able to get a glimpse of it the next time I use it.”

Well I’d like to say I didn’t believe him, and I told him so, but all he had to do was motion with a nod of his head toward his new pint of beer that I just bought him to prove that it worked!  3 times!

That was a long time ago and I was young and stupid, now I’m older and stupid but still want to know where to get one… times are tough!

So I did some research and to my dismay, it turns out this Blarney Stone is a block of bluestone built into the top battlements of Blarney Castle in Ireland, like in the 1400’s.

That’s a pretty old stone and too big to put in your pocket!  In order to kiss it you have to be grasped by the ankles and dangled over a ledge, upside down and backwards to reach it!

That’s just wrong!

Yeah as it turns out every year millions of people, including world statesmen, literary giants and legends of the silver screen flock to the Blarney Castle to kiss the stone!

According to legend, kissing the Blarney Stone endows the kisser with great articulate eloquence or skill at flattery, in other words the gift of gab.  In plain English… lying!

That would explain a lot about the state of the economy.  I’d like to see a list of all the “stone kissers” that turn out to be senators, congressmen, presidents, and ex-girlfriends!

~Snarp

www.snarpfarkle.com

Jokes On Me!

I recently purchased some material for use in my internet endeavors and came across a data base of about ten thousand jokes so I thought I’d share a couple with you. 

A man walks into a bar and orders a shot, drinks it, then looks into his shirt pocket. He does this several times over and over again.

Finally the bartender asks him, “Why do you keep ordering a shot, and then after drinking it look into your shirt pocket?”

The man responded “I have a picture of my wife in there, and when she starts to look good, I’ll go home!”  Hee-Hee-Hee!

Cannibals capture three men.  The men are told that they will be skinned and eaten and then their skin will be used to make canoes. Then they are each given one final request. The first man asks to be killed as quickly and painlessly as possible.

His request is granted, and they poison him, and skin him for their canoes. The second man asks for paper and a pen so that he can write a farewell letter to his family. This request is granted, and after he writes his letter, they kill him, save his skin for their canoes.

Now it is the third man’s turn. He asks for a fork. The cannibals are confused, but it is his final request, so they give him a fork. As soon as he has the fork he begins stabbing himself all over shouting, “To hell with your canoes!” 
Hee-Hee-Hee!  Hey that’s what I’d do!

While frequenting a local pub one day, a confused looking stranger walks in and sits a couple stools down from me. He orders three shots and quickly slugs them down.

Then just shakes his head in obvious disbelief, and quickly sits back up and orders three more shots.

He looked harmless enough so I decided to ask him if he was okay. 

That,,, was a mistake!

“Well, it all started when I got married” he proclaimed, “and I guess I should never have done it. I married a widow with a grown daughter who then became my stepdaughter.”

“Then my dad came to visit us; fell in love with my lovely stepdaughter, and then married her, so now my stepdaughter is my stepmother, and my dad is my son-in-law.”

“Wow that does sound a little confusing.” I said humorously.

 “Wait there’s more; soon my wife and I had a son who became my dad’s brother-in-law since he is the half-brother of my stepdaughter, who is now, of course, my dad’s wife.”

“So, as I told you, when my stepdaughter married my dad, she became my stepmother!  Now, since my new son is brother to my stepmother, he also became my uncle.”

“Uh… dude, I think my mother’s calling me, I gotta …”

“But wait let me finish, as you know, my wife is my step-grandmother since she is my stepmother’s mother.  Don’t forget that my stepmother is my stepdaughter, so that now makes me my wife’s grandson.”

“You see, since I’m married to my step-grandmother, I am not only my wife’s grandson and her husband, but I am also my own grandfather.

Now can you see why I’m so confused?”

Not taking my eyes off the dude, I replied: “Bartender, get this guy three more shots, and shoot me in the head… PLEASE!”

~Snarp
www.snarpfarkle.com