This one actually comes from a true story about an uncle of mine several generations back, Uncle Shamus.
Uncle Shamus was a Dubliner, living his days in Northern Ireland. A good one, he was, but like any good Irishman, he loved a pint or five any time of day or night. And maybe a stiff whiskey to go with it. One day he was late for an appointment with his barrister (his lawyer) and was unable to find a parking spot. :Ten minutes late for a meeting five minutes ago,” or so it’s told in family lore.
Uncle Shamus finally wearied of driving around the block and called out for divine help. At the stop sign at the corner of Cook and Lower Bridge Street, he closed his eyes and folded his hands on the steering wheel and muttered a half desperate prayer: “Lord, if you’ll only help me to find a parkin’ spot here, I’ll give up the booze. The beer, too Father. Amen.”
Upon opening his eyes, he saw an open spot right next to him.
“Nevermind,” he muttered. “I’ve just found one.”
I hope this wasn’t the Uncle Shamus that had so many whiskies and beers that he couldn’t even walk home, and ended up crawling the few doors to home? And his good wife sez to him, ” So Shamus, Did you ferget yer wheelchair at the pub?” DG
Yes, the very same one! You have an Uncle Shamus as well, then?
Aye, ‘Twas my Uncle Shamus that invented the inflatable dartboard!!
Toooooo funnnyy…..thanks, I needed that!
Been real glad to see you around and commenting lately! Thanks for being here!
Happy New Year to Jones, Uncle Shamus, Rob and riders across the globe, even the ones on Harleys !!
Zukiman in Calif