Posted by Butch on February 23, 2002 at 06:01:26:
We emerged one night ;Ciaran and I, from our local watering hole, a tavern by the name of "The hollow Leg" where we had imbibed large quantities of 'Uisce Beatha' and none too steadily headed up the hill for home .A small flat in the town of Hayward just twenty six miles across the bridge from San Fransisco,a typical suburban sprawl of shopping malls and traffic congestion, with housing developments popping up like mushrooms! all over the place. Any way to make a long story short. The hour was now around 3A.M. We were on the last leg home, delayed by a 'show' of brute strength to prove that the men of Mayo were indeed as tough as the 'boys from the County Armagh'. We were taking a short cut across a small park (Mall to you), a brief plot of grass sown by the local council to contrast the concrete and apeople to please . The grass was irrigated by a series of automatic sprinklers spraying non-potable waters every fifteen mins or so. And every week someone in a yellow truck would come by and douse the grass with various chemicals, to keep the grass healthy, and green from a can named "Green Alive!" no doubt. Ciaran suddenly stopped to bend down, and held up a mushroom to show me, "Look Boy" he said , "There's fucking mushrooms growing here" his excitement growing as he found another one, and another, and another, till we soon had a whole bushel of mushrooms held in our jackets formed as a basket, and we headed off home with our loot. It was agreed that the shruums could wait untill the morn! for cooking and we headed off to bed .When I came to, some hours later ,I stumbled into the kitchen to find the bould Ciaran there, the mushrooms peeled ,washed, and ready for the pan . I suddenly felt a sharp stab as my angel kicked me in the arse. "Whoa Boy" I said , "You can't eat them, ,ther'e bad" " Nah boy ther'e allright" "No boy you can't eat those mushrooms" . "We have to throw them out, now!" And I did . Ciaran was an all Ireland footballer, playing for Armagh , he returned to Armagh with his childhood friend Darina , his wife , his children and is a soliciter in that ecclasiastical city. No cows live in the city of Hayward that I am aware of, and therefore, no cowshiet!.