[Images via Mr. McGoogle.]
[Found here. Note that both images are the same size, but one looks closer than the other.]
The four in front are not Irish, but the back three are. Just sayin’.
I bet the Erins go Bleaugh within the hour.
On the other hand, this is pretty cool.
There are a few remaining holed stones in Ireland. There is one in Co. Antrim and in Co. Louth and lucky for me there’s one in my native Co. Cork! This is the Ballyroon standing stone which is situated in West Cork on the Sheep’s Head road. This imposing stone is 2.25 metres in height unfortunately it is not standing and is only propped up on a smaller stone. The most striking feature is the beautifully carved round hole which runs through the stone. According to a local historian
The hole in the stone is narrow on one side and wide on the other. The man had a bigger hand and he put his hand through the wide side and the woman put her hand through the narrow side. They made their promises when they put their hands through the stone.
My favorite Irish song is Nell Flaherty’s Drake for various reasons. Here’s the tune:
Stay safe driving home tomorrow so you can still wake up on Wednesday and call in to work stupid.
Yeah, we had ’em.
We’d split them up, Germans vs. Allies, set them up in the dirt, then each of us would shoot rubber bands at the opponent’s “army.” If the rubber band knocked over a soldier, he was taken off of the battlefield as KIA.
If you shot a rubber band off your thumb, hit or miss, it became part of your opponent’s arsenal. If you were a good shot but too aggressive, you might run out of rubberband ammo and lose the battle. Strategy & Tactics for 8 year old boys.
The algae kinda got out of hand, just in time for St. Patrick’s Day.
Some of you may have noticed an improvement in the Tacky Raccoon HQ rec room restrooms recently. Yep, that’s right, the old cracked wooden butt-pinchers have been replaced with Church Seats. We’re going green, and the best part is that Church Seats will stay stunning.
Been a while since we’ve posted a Genuine Babe Magnet. This isn’t one of them. Or maybe it is, despite being a non-driveable found POS with flat tires and a nitrogen/nematode power plant to propel it at a top speed of nothing with botanical detritus for the interior finish.
The exterior finish screams San Francisco, due to the 1960’s retro paint job. Naive college age girls with their effeminate art student boyfriends decorated this, and transformed a recyclable wreck into a recyclable wreck without salvageable parts. In other words, it’s an urban heap made worse.
This is NOT a babe magnet. It’s nothing more than an elevated canine/feline restroom with a groovy paint job, nominated to be protected as sacred street art by the SanFran Cilly Clowncil. Haul it away.
[Update 26 November 2008: According to loyal reader Julie, an expert on matters such as these, it’s a Toronto absurdity, not San Francisco as assumed reported. Read her comments in the section for comments section for her comments.]
[Another terrifying image from Arbroath.]