Luck Of The Irish

Yeah, after round 5 of my tried-and-true Murphy’s Pub vaccine routine, I’m thinking maybe I should be called Dr. O’Brien or Darby O’Brien, MD, and order one of those doc’s license plates from the state. Alright, I’m nothing but a goddamn spin doctor, but I’m telling ya. Rhubarb Johnson, I really think I’ve stumbled on something Fauci and Walensky haven’t been able to figure out. I call it the Irish Cure.

Everybody is saying that the latest COVID booster is a humdinger and a whizbanger. People are feeling lousy for days after the shot. What the Christ, I even heard some people are flipping over backwards like a flounder on the dock of the bay. Folks are really feeling sick, Bo Diddley. Not me, ‘mon.

If you’ve been reading these ditties for a while you probably know the deal. Come booster time, I always go to the same CVS in Agawam, right down the road from the famous neighborhood hangout Murphy’s Pub. I get the shot and head straight to Murphy’s with my son Joe, who acts as my driver on these outings. We split a basket of fried pickles and I order up the same thing every time—a 20-ounce Guinness draught and a Reuben sandwich. Then later that night, before I hit the hay, I have a Jameson. 

I’m tellin' ya, I sleep like a log and jump outta bed like a bullfrog. So if you’ve got a booster coming up, this is my prescription. Another secret is to swipe the pen after you sign the check. I’ve got five of ‘em now.

Let me know how it goes. And if Fauci or Walenski need my advice, I’d be glad to give it to them. Keep your dukes up.

Keep your dukes up. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQ5uBHWXLgc

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