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Matthew O Harris Ease A FAKE Irishman

Matthew O' Harris Ease A "FAKE" Irishman Juiced tin he nuff tame afore thee Saint Patrick's Day, (hens this faux written accent donned to sail hub berate won big todo fur those peep pull o' Eire rush deuce cent) aye pretend, and thence make oop duff fallow wing vary minor event harkening back e'er sins this generic gent, hooped tubby imp poet hint wannabe, (who hapt tubby absent without leave from Brogue kin home since a lil whippersnapper, and accident boot tappin), when me note holler than garden variety leprechaun, advertisement tuff hind miss elf, no major ailment - good red ants tomb ma late mum, which fair re: creatures, no argument booth us, iz moar rare than finding far leaf clover, and eek will coz fur astonishment eef hoodlum (caw zing bedlam) sought atonement Yukon bull heave or no, how life on the lamb as a Dublin street urchin met belligerent scruffy geezers old looking and bent till kind ole soul named C. Clement took yaws truly as apprenticed Baron without complaint, though kept ma lidded concealment secret til search abandoned confident gnome hissing pipsqueak, would be sorely missed giving fresh start with help to coinvent patois, and be comb real estate magnet ne'er no wing want oof basic needs - yea content in due time making pile moan hee tall as Taj Mahal kicking back during Lent gerrymandering convalescent old age spinning yarns for modest copayment total tubular tales with nary a Harris Boss Tweed stitch of truth!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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