Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Bar is open. Belly up with Quincannon.

Don't make me be starting a Donnybrooke with the whole of ya's.

When I had enough just throw me out the door.

NOW DRINK UP YOU WEE MAN!

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13 comments:

The Dude said...

V. McLaglen had the same year of birth and death as my grandfather - how about that. My grandfather, as near as I can tell, never played a character named Quincannon in two different movies.

June 18, 2009 at 2:08 PM
Darcy said...

Ohhhh...love this scene. Precious.

I'll have a very dirty vodka martini. Thanks!

June 18, 2009 at 2:09 PM
Darcy said...

And some of those olives that Palladian mentioned? With anchovies? Yum.

June 18, 2009 at 2:11 PM
dr kill said...

Has anyone else here been thrown out the door on three continents?

Don't tell me you wouldn't be proud to claim such an honor.

Go over to that other place.

June 18, 2009 at 2:42 PM
chickelit said...

@dr kill: A quarter for the jukebox brings forth a little Pogues mood music: link

McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed,
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head,
There's devils on each side of you with bottles in their hands,
You need one more drop of poison and you'll dream of foreign lands,

When you pissed yourself in Frankfurt and got syph down in Cologne,
And you heard the rattling death trains as you lay there all alone,
Frank Ryan brought you whiskey in a brothel in Madrid,
And you decked some fucking blackshirt who was cursing all the yids,
At the sick bed of Cuchulainn, we'll kneel and say a prayer,
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair.

And in the Euston Tavern you screamed it was your shout,
But they wouldn't give you service so you kicked the windows out,
They took you out into the street and kicked you in the brains,
So you walked back in through a bolted door and did it all again,
At the sick bed of Cuchulainn well kneel and say a prayer,
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devil's in the chair.

You remember that foul evening when you heard the banshees howl?
There was lousy drunken bastards singing Billy is in the bowl,
They took you up to Midnight Mass and left you in the lurch,
So you dropped a button in the plate and spewed up in the church,

Now you'll sing a song of liberty for blacks and paks and jocks,
And they'll take you from this dump you're in and stick you in a box,
Then they'll take you to cloughprior and shove you in the ground,
But you'll stick your head back out and shout we'll have another round!
At the graveside of Cuchulainn we'll kneel around and pray
And God is in his heaven, and Billy's down by the bay.

I guess Shane MacGowan wrote 'em as he lived it.

June 18, 2009 at 3:04 PM
dr kill said...

NA, EUROPE AND ASIA. Havent been to OZ yet.

June 18, 2009 at 3:10 PM
dr kill said...

I did have a drink on the island (Palm Beach) last week. I was very well behaved. Next week I hope to check out the Kennedy family pre-rape bar.

Grrrrrr.

June 18, 2009 at 3:12 PM
ricpic said...

The suspension of disbelief needed to believe in 60 year old McLaglen's rowdyism defies belief.

June 18, 2009 at 3:35 PM
dr kill said...

I'm guessing you haven't spent much time in the blacksmith shop at ACRC.

June 18, 2009 at 10:00 PM
The Dude said...

That was interesting, if odd. I had heard of the Pogues, never heard them, and only clicked on the link after reading the lyrics.

I must say the music in no way fits the words - that is a very strange upbeat tune for such a serious subject. You might even say they Clash.

June 18, 2009 at 10:22 PM
blake said...

In the end, brought down by a woman, eh? (I'm going from memory. I think that's how the scene ends, right?)

June 18, 2009 at 11:27 PM
chickelit said...

I must say the music in no way fits the words - that is a very strange upbeat tune for such a serious subject. You might even say they Clash.

The Pogues were like gin-soaked Lucky Charms.

June 19, 2009 at 2:31 AM
The Dude said...

"Gin-soaked Lucky Charms" - it's what's for breakfast!

June 19, 2009 at 7:59 AM

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