Rickresource Rickenbacker Forum

Guinness and guitars...Not a bad combo...

S'what I'm talking about!

"Fizzing at the Bung(!)"

I just laughed until I cried....



Happy St. Patrick's day, everyone!

Happy St. Paddy's!

winston wrote:"Fizzing at The Bung" sounds like a great name for a pub.......

Interesting, Brian.... there's a pub here in Melbourne call 'The Geebung Polo Club' (named after a famous poem by Banjo Paterson) that regularly has bands playing. It's nicknamed "The 'Bung" so taking that a little further, imagine if you had a band called 'Fizzing' and you got a gig there...... the promotional posters could be hysterical!!

D#@n it wints, stop taunting me! Here's a little axe my wife picked up for me last Saturday...

admin wrote:Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone. Any greenbursts out there?

Would Turquoise be okay?


I hope everyone had a nice St. Patrick's Day!

I've never really celebrated St. Pats in spite of being a mix of all kinds of Celtic. (Mostly Welsh, though.) I've got to admit I find it kind've offensive that most people just use it to reinforce the "drunken green man" thing, but what can one do... and I can't lie either, I did drink a pint.

You certainly do look like a Celt, Joshua, I'll have to say...

Yes, racial stereotyping...it's fun, easy...and just so wrong. There's an Italian Restaurant on the NW side of Denver that was just sold to new owners recently. It's in the heart of the historic Italian part of town...many Italian stonecutters and bricklayers moved out here more than a hundred years ago after the original wooden Denver burned to the ground, and the City Coucil ruled that all new buildings had to be built of brick. Anyway...this restaurant's been there for many decades, and it was the infamous meeting place for the local cosa nostra fellahs. So now, the new owners have applied a very nicely hand-painted slogan across the front wall of the joint: Italian To Die For...

That's got me thinking...I'm gonna open a bar called Terry's Irish Pub, and over the front door, it'll say: Come On In For A Free Punch...

wayang wrote:That's got me thinking...I'm gonna open a bar called Terry's Irish Pub, and over the front door, it'll say: Come On In For A Free Punch...

That's funny, Dane! You got me thinking about my old Navy days as a boiler tech... the other departments would send their new guys down to the firerooms to get a "BT punch" - you should see the looks on their faces when they suddenly "get it"!

Hey, Jim...boiler tech, eh? You have my respect, brother. I had a good friend down in McMurdo who was an ex-Navy BT, and he was doing the same kind of work for our civilian crew. He was the biggest (tallest+widest) human being I've ever known, but he could squish himself into places a 'tunnel rat' wouldn't go. Not the 'MOS' for a claustrophobic, that's for sure. Your story reminded me of the old (now-defunct) Antarctic initiation ceremony, "a**-packing", which involved the liberal application of a shovel full of snow...I escaped it my first season by catching on quickly and claiming I'd already 'been there, done that'...whew...

Hey, Howard! Fizzing At The Bung...wasn't that a Count Basie tune? Wait...no, that was Jumpin' At The Woodside...

I just had a brainstorm! (or should that be bongstorm?) You should become an impressario, round up a bunch of bands, and produce a concert series recorded at that Melbourne pub.

"Sir Howard Bishop Presents: Fizzing At The Bung"...you know, the Australian version of Jazz At The Philharmonic...

Okay, it's back to more Bubbling At The Bong and Googling At The Web for me...

Great work, everyone. It is not easy being green.

Thanks Dane! Having made CPO, crossed the equator and the Arctic Circle, I now know a thing or two about initiations A good friend of mine was on "Operation Deep Freeze", the six month tour in Antarctica to support the scientific research, and I know they have a few of their own down there. And a boiler is NO place for claustrophobia!

Just received this one in my email.....

AN IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO

An attractive blonde from Cork , Ireland arrived at the casino. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty-thousand Euros on a single roll of the dice.

She said, 'I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude'.

With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, 'Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!'

As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed...'YES! YES! I WON, I WON!'

She hugged each of the dealers and then picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, 'What did she roll?'

The other answered, 'I don't know - I thought you were watching.'