Ever notice that the people who boastfully proclaim that “They’ll sleep when they’re dead” are exactly the kind of grumpy malcontents who are most obviously in need of a good night’s rest?
Whenever a recipe says it’ll make six servings, I always cut it in half; whenever it says it’ll take thirty minutes to make, I always double it to an hour. In this way recipes are my friends, but I wonder where the tribe of people live where recipe estimates actually work for them.
I’m thinking of going to Ireland in a few months, but whenever people ask me why I simply say “Because I hear the Guinness tastes better.” I probably need an answer like “to enjoy the windswept cliffs of Moher” or whatever, but you know what? Screw it. If people from all over the world can travel to Mecca to see a rock, I can damn well fly 19 hours to visit a pub.
The Beatles asked “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64?” Paul McCartney turns 64 on Sunday, and his wife has filed for divorce. However, don’t worry that there’s no more mystique in regards to classic Beatles songs; people are still wondering exactly how Lady Madonna manages to make ends meet.
i asked my friend why he was going to ireland and he said he wanted to meet some local milkbag and bring her back here to marry. that was inappropriate and funny.
Last I heard, Madonna was raking in about $200 per ticket, so it would appear her ends are being met quite nicely, thankyouveddy much. (That was her fake Bitish accent.)
This is what happens when you go to Ireland: you get dragged through Dublin by your boyfriend to the Guinness brewery, go on an interminable tour (which seems to detour through the well-stocked gift shop QUITE A FEW TIMES), all to get to the Holy Grail - the brewery pub where they will exchange the free drink tickets you’ve been clutching for pints of fresh, frothy Guinness. You then discover that freshly brewed Guinness is sharp and bitter and you exchange your second free drink ticket for a Coke, to try to get the taste out of your mouth.
My Goodness, The Disappointment!
Posted by on 06/16 at 02:02 PM
Going to Ireland to drink from the fount of the divine brew called Guinness is the Guinness lover’s Mecca. As soon as I stop spending all of my money on the swill (relatively speaking) that they concoct in Canada, I plan on making the holy trip, also. Not for the Blarney Stone, not for the leprechauns, not for the bonny lasses with their auburn hair flaming, but for the celestial treat sucked from the teat of the factory: Guinness. The other things will just be the four leaf clover etched in the head on my pint. Drink a pint for me.
They have this exhibit at the Guinness brewery which is supposed to simulate what it’s like to be INSIDE a pint of Guinness. I have my own opinions about its effectiveness (suggestion: stop by the pub downstairs and turn in your free drink chits first) but I would totally accept that as a reason for going.
ireland : because it really is the country of 1000 welcomes and at least half of them come from lasses (or lads) with flaming auburn hair. because the accent is unbeatable. because the signs for the bus stop are in gaelic/english, or gaelic only in some places. because the pub food is delicious. because the country unfolds beneath your plane like an emerald quilt, amazing how many shades of green. because the sugar packets you get when you order coffee in a café have sayings printed on them in gaelic. because you can hear harpers harping on genuine irish harps on the street corners, and celtic fiddlers fiddling. because you’ll be amazed how very, very many things a true chef can do with a potato. because the churches sport the names of saints you’ve never heard of, and then they turn out to have incredibly gorgeous, magical hagiographies (bairrfhionn ! craobhnait !) with luminous pronunciations you won’t be able to reproduce with your own tongue, even though you’ll practice saying them for months ...
or : because even if it doesn’t *taste* better, you’ll get to say “i went on a tour of the guinness factory. it was cool.”
but the Guinness does taste better!
hey! we’re planning to go in a few months too! let’s do lunch!
I’m still trying to figure out where that 8th day came from.
i asked my friend why he was going to ireland and he said he wanted to meet some local milkbag and bring her back here to marry. that was inappropriate and funny.
Last I heard, Madonna was raking in about $200 per ticket, so it would appear her ends are being met quite nicely, thankyouveddy much. (That was her fake Bitish accent.)
But she ain’t no lady.
Well, at least kiss the Blarney stone…
Going to Ireland to make a pub crawl is no more insane than going to Mexico to see the Virgin Mary on a tortilla.
I’m sure that Guiness IS better with the ambience intended: Ireland. Who needs an excuse to travel, anyway?
This is what happens when you go to Ireland: you get dragged through Dublin by your boyfriend to the Guinness brewery, go on an interminable tour (which seems to detour through the well-stocked gift shop QUITE A FEW TIMES), all to get to the Holy Grail - the brewery pub where they will exchange the free drink tickets you’ve been clutching for pints of fresh, frothy Guinness. You then discover that freshly brewed Guinness is sharp and bitter and you exchange your second free drink ticket for a Coke, to try to get the taste out of your mouth.
My Goodness, The Disappointment!
Going to Ireland to drink from the fount of the divine brew called Guinness is the Guinness lover’s Mecca. As soon as I stop spending all of my money on the swill (relatively speaking) that they concoct in Canada, I plan on making the holy trip, also. Not for the Blarney Stone, not for the leprechauns, not for the bonny lasses with their auburn hair flaming, but for the celestial treat sucked from the teat of the factory: Guinness. The other things will just be the four leaf clover etched in the head on my pint. Drink a pint for me.
The closest I’ve ever gotten to Dublin was London, and the Guinness was awful there.
They have this exhibit at the Guinness brewery which is supposed to simulate what it’s like to be INSIDE a pint of Guinness. I have my own opinions about its effectiveness (suggestion: stop by the pub downstairs and turn in your free drink chits first) but I would totally accept that as a reason for going.
ireland : because it really is the country of 1000 welcomes and at least half of them come from lasses (or lads) with flaming auburn hair. because the accent is unbeatable. because the signs for the bus stop are in gaelic/english, or gaelic only in some places. because the pub food is delicious. because the country unfolds beneath your plane like an emerald quilt, amazing how many shades of green. because the sugar packets you get when you order coffee in a café have sayings printed on them in gaelic. because you can hear harpers harping on genuine irish harps on the street corners, and celtic fiddlers fiddling. because you’ll be amazed how very, very many things a true chef can do with a potato. because the churches sport the names of saints you’ve never heard of, and then they turn out to have incredibly gorgeous, magical hagiographies (bairrfhionn ! craobhnait !) with luminous pronunciations you won’t be able to reproduce with your own tongue, even though you’ll practice saying them for months ...
or : because even if it doesn’t *taste* better, you’ll get to say “i went on a tour of the guinness factory. it was cool.”
Hilarious! And people who ask you why you’re going to Ireland clearly haven’t seen pictures. What a silly question. Why stay home, actually?
Ireland sounds like a blast. I have never been to the Old Sod, but I will have to make a pilgramage someday.
If you get a chance to buy me a case of Sea Dog Rum by Grant’s of IReland, do it.
Irish tour guides pee on the Blarney Stone all the time.
I’m just saying.
Forget Guiness, drink Murphys Irish stout..Like Guiness, but better.
Guinness is best used as a warmup to Jameson’s.
Guinness is over, man, it’s all about the burgeoning Irish microbrew industry.
I’m an Irish Studies professor and I know these things.* Plus, trips to Ireland are tax-deductible for me.
*I read about it in the New York Times.
Hmm, I don’t know how I make ends meet…