Well, today is St. Patrick's day and I for one need no excuse to drink. In fact, I've been drinking and kissing the Blarney Stone since 10am this morning and I must admit I'm writing this blog with one eye open so as to keep the room from spinning. We'll see how long that works.
So I hit some pubs in downtown Austin, including a couple of Irish pubs where I found plenty of party goers more schnockered (âsteamboatsâ as some Irish say) than I was, am. While skipping around town, some friends and I bumped into a couple of women from Dublin in town for SXSW who were drinking in a pub I shall not name for legal reasons. One of the âyoung wansâ (young ladies) was named Katherine and she swore like an Irish sailor. I had a chat with her and her friends helped interpret her Irish slang. Interpretations are in brackets [...].
UB: So are you ladies having a great St Patty's Day?
Katherine: I'm completely steamboats and acting the maggot. [I'm seriously inebriated and not behaving in a serious manner]
UB: Ah, cool. So it's just like any other day for you, eh?
Katherine: Ah... Ballsch! Shut your pie hole. Don't be a Chancer. [Rubbish. Shut your mouth and don't push your luck]
UB: Oh, I'm just kidding. I love a woman who takes a drink or two.
Katherine: Oh relax the cacks. I'm not going to give you a clatter and you're lucky I'm a bit horned up. [Calm down. I'm not going to punch you and you're lucky I'm a bit aroused]
Katherine: What poof juice you drinking? Give me some snots and I'll get us some real drinks. [What beverage (not Guinness or beer based) are you drinking? Give me some money and I'll get us some real drinks so you can have your way with me]
UB: Uh... OK. Here's some âsnots.â Get us something manly.
Katherine: Ahhhh... you know I'm not no mingin' molly so stay right here. [You know I'm not a girl displeasing to the eye so stay here and I'll make you regret you ever met me]
I'm updating this via my iPhone so I'll let you know how my time with some real âmingin' molliesâ turns out.
Happy St. Pats!