Euge

I haven’t yet decided which direction my blog will take, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to categorize it. It’s just going to be composed of events that happen me on a daily basis. Which is sistamatically, my life. And if my blog is categorized under ‘My Life’ … than that’s ay okay!

Euge is my Dad. Eugene to be accurate.

Daddy/Pops (as Mum calls him)/Papa (his name in my phone), Euge, Eugenius (his name to my bro) and sometimes it’s just ********* (insert some harsh, brass word that I’ll throw at him when I’m angry, to which it’s met with a slap on the back of the head).

I’m not going to talk or write about my Dad ‘coz for some reason I feel like it would be like I’m writing an obituary. (Another 35+ years, Cheers God!) But I will use this post as ‘Stories & Quotes from Euge ‘ which I will refer back to and add new ones. I mite yet make it a page, I’m unsure.

Why do I want to do this? Because my Father is one funny, funny man. He has that dry, sarcastic wit which I bloody love and if there’s one thing I’d like to say I inherited from my Dad, it’s that. (Don’t think I did unfortunately). Would also like here and now to say I am not making fun of, or berating my Dad in any way. It’s just a bit of craic. And he doesn’t mean anything he says. He’s also just having a bit of banter with me. I love my Dad all the more for these. After all, as I overheard by a publican in Ballaghaderreen one day as he was plying me and my cousins with drink,

‘Great wit derives from great intelligence.’

So I am going to use this space to post the gems that come out of Euge’s mouth. I also include a few from Mom. Hope you enjoy.

***

She’s an arse on her like a friesian cow and a face that would frighten the devil.’

In reference to an annual local country music festival that my Mam organises: ‘Don’t be the disgrace you were last year. If I see ya swaying even a little I’m bringing ya home. Between roll ups and the shakes you’re gone off the ladder altogether. And your hair is as black as soot.’

You smoke roll ups? Since when are you a 70 year old man with life problems.’

(After sampling a new brand of red cheddar chesse) Euge: ‘A slice of that is like eatin a hape of shteaks.’

In reference to my dark eye make-up: ‘Your eyes are like two black coals within in your head.’

Mom: ‘Your face is withered. How much are you drinking? Actually, I don’t want to know. I’m better off. And your voice is so husky. On 3o a day now are ya…puffin away like a chimney.’

Me: ‘Dad, I need ya to buy a box of black hair dye when you’re in town today’. ‘What dya think I am? All i’m short of is a shkirt.’

I live on a farm, and today I had to help Euge move cattle. No prob says I. So I’m walking the cattle to their field, and I’m pissed at him ‘coz he could just use the tractor and drive them there. So he’s behind me in the tractor, and he beeps. I look around. There he is with his leg up on the steering wheel, cap over his face, pretending to sleep whilst moving the steering wheel with his foot. So, to piss HIM off, I take out a smoke and light up. Puffin away whilst walking. We’r equally now pissed off with each other. (Parents detest me smoking).

I’ve lost my glasses. Ya see, I’ve disciplined them. One pair never leaves the van. The other pair never leaves the living room. The 3rd pair have freedom of movement. If ya find my living room glasses, i’ll give ya a hug. Go find them ya weed’.

The size of that mug, ya could have a bath in it.’

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