Greetings Dean and Greetings to all the duly accessioned members of the Rockaway Park Philosophical Society:
Gaudium aeternis socio socorum hodie padriki sanctis
Dean, this St Patrick's Day will bring me at least sentimentally to MacCarthy's. I guess I've been bitten by the leprechaun and must return for the cure.
MacCarthy's isn't a fancy place you understand. It was one of those picturesque Irish pubs where seamen like myself and others of the rough and tumble sort could find a hearty breakfast and wash it down with three tumblers of guiness stout as we recounted the tales of bold men and deeds. But only MacCarthy's has the cure for dreaded bites of those pesty leprechauns.
I may have been thinking of MacCarthy's when I received questions of a philosophical nature from one
Professor Schultzy.
What is courage?
What is honor?
As you know
Professor Schultzy
is one of those romantic sorts who is quite taken with the courage of Mr Bush in the current dilemma. Seemingly according to the press so too are everybody else.
Certainly after a pint or two Mr Bush might indeed find some courage for some bold deed.
If not, Mr Bush might find the facilities old but sturdy enough to accommodate the purpose, far preferable to leaving that yellow rainbow, a streak polluting the jet stream as Mr Bush did in his terror-driven flight on the morning of September 11th.
Poor Mr Bush probably didn't run in fright; he was just bitten by a leprechaun.
Leprechaun bites can be very dangerous, so I was told by one of MacCarthy's barkeepers when I reported that I dropped by on St Pats Day to find the place vacant except for a Chinese man watching the register.
"I take it olde MacCarthy's wasn't your first stop," the barkeep asked me.
"Aye," I sadly acknowledged.
"You must have been bitten," the barman shook his head, "by a leprechaun at your prior alehouse."
"A leprechaun!" I exclaimed. "Is that serious?"
"Dangerous bites, these leprechaun nips. You could see threats that aren't there."
"Is there no cure?" I pled in earnest.
The bartender smiled. "Have four pints instead of your usual three."
My case was far milder. I had only seen an alien bartender. Mr Bush's pathology after his retreat from an attack that was over would require far more intensive therapy.
After several gallons of guiness Mr Bush might find the courage he sorely lacks.
A Cheery Cherio,
Lord Woodburry
Mentor of the Society
mentor_rpps@yahoo.com
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