SURE Jaysus who could imagine 50 million pints of the black stuff being sunk around the globe at the same time.
Arthur must’ve been lickin’ his lips while the masses of punters watched the creamy heads settle on the glasses down in St James’s Gate. What with that Tom Jones fella, yer man Cowen and those other musician types it was a mad bash. That Jones fella’s suggestion for a hangover cure is a weird yoke though. A hairy dog?? Wha??
But enough of this lark, I’m off for a quiet jar of the black stuff in Mulligans. Outside St James’s, you can still hear the movement of kegs and sure the whiff of hops over the stinkin’ Liffey will keep the air clean for another night.
Even that leader lad Cowen was up for some fun: “You always have the one,” he said.
Yer one Coughlan wasn’t her usual cheerful self though when she was asked by the lads if she’d let her hair down and have a drink.
“I haven’t any hair left to let down,” she said.
Jaysus, times are tough when ya can’t manage a pint of plain.
Much of the folk wandering about though were havin’ the craic, even if they weren’t sure who Arthur Guinness was, David Gray said: “He’s the guy who invented the stuff, isn’t he?”
Ah but sure with this 9,000-year lease on the brewery, there’s plenty of time for the carry on.
And them poor folks in Malaysia had to wait til the morning to have theirs poured. Poor sods.
But bless the old Guinness, it’s a sweet charmer. And has been for 250 years.
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