St Patrick's Day from Spike & Jamie
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Toasts to/about Women

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Here's to women of the Irish shore;
I love but one, I love not more.
But since she's not here to drink her part,
I'll drink her share with all my heart.




Here's to the girl I love; and,
Here's to the girl who loves me.
Here's to those who love the girl I love,
And, all those who love the girl I love who love me.




Women, Can't live with 'em, 
Pass the beer nuts.
--Norm Peterson, "Cheers"




If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, 
I could walk through my garden forever.





Marry a mountain girl
and you marry the whole mountain.
--Irish Proverb





Four blessings upon you...
Older whiskey
Younger women
Faster horses
More money




When the roaring flames of your love
have burned down to embers,
may you find that you've married your best friend.




Here's to cheating, stealing, fighting, and drinking.
If you cheat, may you cheat death.
If you steal, may you steal a woman's heart.
If you fight, may you fight for a brother.
And if you drink, may you drink with me.




Here's to them that sail to sea
And the ladies that stay on land.
May the former be well rigg-ed
And the latter be well manned!




Here's to a sweetheart, a bottle, and a friend.
The first beautiful, the second full, the last ever faithful.



May you be as happy in life as me and eh... what's her name?





Slainte chuig na fir, agus go mairfidh na mna go deo.
"Health to the men and may the women live forever."





Here's to all of the women who have used me and abused me...
And may they continue to do so!




May your liquor be cold,
May your women be hot.
And may your troubles slide off of you
slicker than snot.



May you look back fifty years from now
and agree that today was the worst
day of your married life.




Here's to women's kisses,
and to whiskey, amber clear;
not as sweet as a woman's kiss,
but a darn sight more sincere!




Here's to a long life and a merry one.
A quick death and an easy one.
A pretty girl and an honest one.
A cold beer-and another one!




Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all that we will know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you and I sigh. 




But the greatest love--the love above all loves,
Even greater than that of a mother...
Is the tender, passionate, undying love,
Of one beer drunken slob for another.
--Irish love ballad





Here's to living single and drinking double!




May you die in bed at 95 years, 
Shot by a jealous wife [husband]!




"I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society,
except that which makes to road safer, the beer stronger, 
the old men and women warmer in the winter, and happier in the summer."
--Irish novelist Brendan Behan




Here's to girls and gunpowder!
--Gregory Peck




'Twas an evening in November,
As I very well remember.
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all aflutter,
So I landed in the gutter,
And a pig came up a lay down by my side.
Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say,
"You can tell a man that boozes 
By the company he chooses."
At that the pig got up and walked away!
--"The Irish Pig"




Here's to the perfect girl,
I couldn't ask for more.
She's deaf 'n dumb, oversexed,
and owns a liquor store.



Here's to the girl I love the best.
I've loved her naked, and I've loved her dressed.
I've loved her standing and I've loved her lying.
And if she had wings, I'd love her flying.
And when she's dead and long forgotten, 
I'll dig her up and love her rotten.



Here's to Eve, the mother of all races,
Who wore a fig leaf in all the right places.
Here's to Adam, the father of us all,
Who was "Johnny on the Spot" 
when the leaves began to fall.



Here's to the women that I've loved 
and all the ones I've kissed.
As for regrets, I just have one; 
that's all the ones I've missed.


Oh, women's faults are many, 
us men have only two:
Everything we say, 
and everything we do.




Here's to the maiden of twenty
who knows it's folly to yearn,
And picks a lover of fifty
because he has money to burn.


The song playing on this page is
"Sweet Rosie O'Grady

<bgsound src="midi2/sweetrosieogrady.mid" loop="1">

If the music doesn't automatically play for you, click the song title above and open the midi in your media player. 

Please do NOT link to any of the midis. I change the names frequently.
They are here for your listening pleasure and enjoyment
and are believed to be in the public domain.
All copyrights belong to their respective authors.

 

 

SHALOM FROM SPIKE & JAMIE

 


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