It is tough being a straight man making a living in a homosexual's dirty old men's club doing the inside job of things.
Craig's List just not have allot of takers for 53 year old white male, blondish, 6.1, 227 pounds and not handsome, but I have feminine grip and I do bend over well.
One always has to give a man his illusions though, as what else does a man have in coming to America.
The old country was always much more a masterpiece theater in the RM or Royal Magistrate was the stuffed collar who just did not get the local jig in what was taking place.
Yes those were the days when me mum and me pop were for the Eire Isle and we all sang the songs for freedom, but somehow we being Tories was never brought up in the pubs, as that might get the IRA making an exclamation point in the family.
Yes being loyal to the Queen in Northern Ireland was something the Brits were of course settled into, but there were those Irish who bowed and curtsied to the Queen to......at least in home and with the police, as well, it was just how one got the favor to get the hell out of Ireland.
They say the smart people left Ireland running and the Irish are what remain. Odd how those who fled, all have this green colored glass fiction that they were all suffering from something British when being loyal to the English crown.
Of course, mum and pop, had issues, and it was not just an Irish pub that broke up the family, but it was an Irish woman who just wanted to get the hell out of Ireland as the Irish were there.
Yeah that sort of is insulting to the Irish and the ones who made it out, seem to not speak of such things, as they make up fond fiction about how great the olde rock pile was as a sock to your face was a social gathering after a few pinters and more quarts.
It is though what a travelin' boy has to grow up with, as when the legend is what all the other Irish are reciting in the pubs, it just becomes the fiction of a life now reality. We are all Irish you see, we have all been through the troubles, we have all seen little girls blown to bits by the IRA we loved to hate, and we just hated to love the British who set us free, but in the end, none of that reality matters, as we are Irish and we have created our story as the real one.
Of course, no one lives the Irish story, we just are all travelers making up the stories someone else was bragging about and we liked the sound of them when we were drunk, and then came home and beat them into the wife, and the kiddies listened to all the drunken fun.
Let's sing as that always makes one feel better with a sore rectum, as a sort of Preparation H, for what ails ya, but that firm grip does come in handy for keyboard typing now that there are no cows to milk or taters to dig.
I'm a travelin' man.....................
agtG
