Jefferson Davis » ireland

Artistic Licence

Jefferson Davis — Tue, 11 May 2010 02:22:34 +0000

One day last week, I was at work doing audits and such as I do everyday when a box of screws fell and splattered into a marvellous figure of a dolphin. Seeing the dolphin in the jumble of screws, I studied it lying lying there on the frigid concrete floor. A moment later my boss came over, and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Ah…well, I saw a figure of a dolphin in these screws….I’ll get them cleaned up, boss.” I said whilst rearranging them again in my mind.

“Boy, you ain’t right”, he laughingly muttered, as he walked off.

Friday, we were getting off of work late. I was in an atrocious mood that had been spiralling out of control all week. We had been working from before dawn ‘til after dusk every night. I’m not one to be around, if I don’t get my creative time in. I must write, take photos and transform them, draw, or do something creative everyday. It is imperative that I do these things to keep my sanity, just as some people must pop pills to make themselves feel happy.

An older gentleman that was working in the business where we were working asked me why I was in such a brooding mood. I had not said a word to the man whilst entering data, but I guess he could tell. My boss stepped in, and said, “Ah, he gets this way every time it rains. The weather reminds him of Ireland.”

I spun around and yelled, “Don’t be telling people my worries, sir”.

“You from Ireland, lad?” The old man asked, intrigued by the statement.

“No, I am from here, the states, but my ancestors, the majority, were from Ireland.”

“I grew up in Philadelphia, but my father was from Cork.” The old man said with extreme excitement.

“Ask him about the woman he lost over there", my boss stated whilst snickering.

“Yes…yes…yes…Tell the whole world about my life. Stick to your own, how about it.”

“So, you’ve been to the Republic?” The man asked, as he leaned over the desk.

We talked for a full hour about our families histories, Ireland, youth, art, books, writers, and the like. I didn’t realise it at the time because I was so intertwined in the conversation, but we had an audience of workers listening to our stories about our adventures and our families adventures to the states. One girl chimed in and said that she was Irish. I asked her if she was born in Ireland clearly for my own amusement. She dropped her head and said no. I asked her what her maiden name was, and she said, “Yeats”. I said, “Well, you could be related to W. B. Yeats”.

“Who is that?” She earnestly asked.

The old man and myself busted into laughter.

“He was a brilliant poet and writer that should not be overlooked. Instead of reading one of those little pretentious novels with no substance, grab one of the classics once and a while.” I said while trying not to humiliate her.

I said my goodbyes and traded contacts with the auld fella. I offered to try and help him find some missing people in his tree. The boss came up to me as I was leaving, and said, “I’m sorry, JD”.

“For what?”

“It is obvious that you hold art, literature, history, and your family very close. These things are a part of you, and I am sorry for trying to suppress them. My God man, you lit up like a beacon, when you started talking about Ireland, art, and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it, boss. My dreams and ambitions may be suppressed at times but never are they gone, for if they die, I die along with them.”

“Like I said before, boy, you ain’t right”

We both laughed while exiting and ran through the torrent sheets of rain towards our cars.

Reason for posting this nonsense? My luck has been turning around lately. There’s a brilliant dawning around the corner. Wait and see.

Dust off Yer Boots

Jefferson Davis — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 00:56:01 +0000

In this massive episode laced with craic, Brian F., K8 the Gr8, Grandad, Dr. Don, and myself hash out everything about nothing. K8 and Grandad savour their Curry while Brian collides with the law. We discuss the pork industry and the hysteria that is H1N1. Brian bitches about the cold and Dr. Don and myself reminisce about radioactive snowcream from a bygone era. We ramble on about a main street trampling and deer whistles. Do they attract or detract?

Later, we learn the meaning of deer jerky along with every other kind of jerky. Christmas and wee sprrogs are mentioned as well as court dates. I wonder about my future wanderings through Ireland with nothing but a backpack, a camera, and a smile to keep me company. We debate whether Indian food is slimming or fattening. Saint Patrick’s Day and the roaring Celtic Tiger are uttered.

In the final bit of the show, we discuss electric pipes, podcasting microphones, the best version of Windows, celebrities, the media, camel toes, metro-techies, and much much more. Please tune in for the next instalment.

Download it Now: Dust of Yer Boots

Being that I’m a country boy (can’t escape it no matter where I go), I decided to add this hilarious song about a chap that wins the lotto. It’s called “Toes”. That’s relevant to Boots, right?

“American” (9)
Long Weekend (2)
Numbers Game (6)
Kilos of Craic: Rock out with a Stout (2)
Episode 20 (0)

Relationship Faults

Jefferson Davis — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 04:27:02 +0000

All of us have faults and baggage. It’s part of being human. Faults and baggage really come to light when one enters into a relationship. Both parties learn of one another’s mannerisms and history. It is quite intriguing, really. Of course, the human experience fascinates me. For so many years, I missed out on wild rollercoaster that is relationships.

Like most folks, I have a ton of baggage. I tend to be a wee bit overbearing, a father figure of sorts. I’m always older than the women I date. (insert joke here) This has afforded me great arguments that I always lose, because all men are wrong, evidently.

Another thing that I and others have notice about moi, is that I tend to go into things at full steam. This time ‘round, I’m taking my time. The faster I rush into things, the harder I crash.

Yet another is something that unhinges a lot of people, especially her. I tell tales of Ireland when an opportunity arises. I don’t do it to be cocky or to seem overly worldly. Most people in this part of the southern US my age and older have never been anywhere. They think a trip is an overnight travel to the next city. I do it for the craic. I have a lot of good memories from Ireland. It comes off to some people like I’m trying be a preppy show off, when that is certainly not the case. I try to explain that Ireland is not an evil place just because it is near Iran in the dictionary!

After this evening, I’m forbidden to bring up Eire on our next outing. It will be hard, as I’m trying to learn Irish and am subsequently muttering Irish words at every chance.

Finally, I care too much. Really. I worry ‘bout her and several other people too much. There are local robberies and shootings on the news every evening. This does not help. I am working on it though. Let the chips fall where they may, I guess.

I realise that this is a sorry excuse for a post. It’s more of critique of myself. A bit of self exploration, as it were.

So, now that I have totally bored you all to bits, what are your faults?

Question?

Jefferson Davis — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 00:56:21 +0000

Last night, I went for a stroll in the frigid rain. I walked through the park with only the moonlight seeping through the rain laden maple trees to guide me.

There are several pivotal moments in a persons life that will forever change his or her life. I am at one of those moments. There are paths that we all take either by fate or by choice. Sometimes we pace in a circle so long that we create a trench that we can’t get out of. The unknown path can be the best to take.

What are human beings but explorers? The words person and individual fall under explorer in most Thesaurus’s. How can we learn, if we do not explore our minds and world around us and beyond our sight?

Illumination has been great importance in my life over the past four years. I spent the first two-thirds of my life in seclusion. I was made to believe that the world outside the little bubble I lived in was evil and horrific.

Now that I have broken out of that shallow bubble, I see a world full of good people such as myself. America is not God’s country, the entire globe belongs to God. The petty differences we have over race and religion are ludicrous, when one thinks about how similar we are.

The hopes and dreams of the world are so alike. No matter where a person may grow up or what rung on the social ladder they are put on by birth, they want the same things as you and me. Do we not all need food, shelter, and love? Do we not all look up at the stars at night and wonder?

For a long time, I’ve had this overwhelming feeling pushing me to explore beyond what I am accustomed to. I am at a point in my life, where I feel that I must push myself and go beyond that which I have done in the past.

I do not hate the place where I was born, nor do I hate my country of origin. But, there is still an underlying impression that I must leave for my own good. That is why I tried the move to Ireland.

To live in one place all of my life and never make a difference in the grand scheme of things is utterly useless. There is nothing holding me here, so I might as well take a leap of faith.

I would like your honest opinion about something. I am seriously considering joining the Peace Corp. If I join, I can help people all over the world. I’d learn a new culture and learn a great deal from the local people. It’d be a simple existence for two years, but it’d be worth it. So, should I go for it?

Mind you, I’d have to be medically cleared, which would be a huge task of its own. I would have to work hard to help out the locals, but it’d be well worth the sweat in the end.

They’d probably send me to somewhere like Honduras or Belize, since I speak Spanish. But, they could send me to Africa or as far east as Kazakhstan. I can prefer a region but they make the ultimate decision based on my skills.

What say you?

CoffeeHouse Cara

Jefferson Davis — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 04:38:33 +0000

While sitting in the local coffeehouse this evening drinking a Guinness, I noticed a ravishing brunette at the table next to me. She was talking to a curly haired blonde across from her about our fair city, when I overheard her say that she was going to Co. Kerry, Ireland for the holidays with the family.

Immediately, I lit up like I always do on the rare occasion that I meet someone from Ireland or the UK.

“Pardon me, might I ask you a question?” I asked with a uniquely enthusiastic tone to my voice.

“Ah, go fer it, as long as it’s not to marry me, for I’m already taken, ye see”, she laughingly replied whilst showing off her ring.

“Are you from Ireland?" I asked, as I moved to the chair closest to them being careful not to spill my Guinness.

“I’m a Charleston girl, but my parents moved over from Ireland in the 50’s.”

“Really?”

“Yep, are you Irish yourself?” She enquired, while her friend went to the bar to order another drink.

“Ah no, my ancestors are from County Mayo and County Down”, I answered whilst sipping me beer.

“Well you could of fooled me”, she said with amazement.

“Ah well, I have friends in Ireland and I’ve been a few times”, I muttered whilst smiling.

“Your accent is something else boy. It’s like a cross of a Southern accent and a…ehm…Downpatrick accent”, she enounced, while waiting on her fresh glass of Harp to settle.

“Well, at least it is not a D4 accent”, I laughingly muttered.

Her friend sat curiously silent, while we laughed and went on about D4.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

“Nope, I want to know more about you”, she replied, whilst crossing her arms.

“Okay, I’m a photographer and a wee bit of a poet”, I replied whilst blushing.

“Are you now?”

“Indeed.”

“Well then, I see you’re not wearing a ring, but I’m reckonin’ that ye got a girlfriend, don’t ya?”

“Nope, I haven’t quite gotten over the last one.”

“Well what’s wrong with ya…are ya not good under the covers?” She whispered whilst giggling.

“I can assure you that isn’t the problem”, I muttered whilst spilling my stout.

“Can you now?”

(I laughed.) I love banter!

Perfect, I’ve got the perfect gurl for ya”, she said whilst turning to her friend whose cheeks and ears were glowing red.

“I’ve got to get some air”, her friend said, as she got up and walked away.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just bashful.”

“Back to my first question then, what do you do for a living?”

“I teach youngsters how to play the fiddle, along with playing it, of course”, she kindly answered with enthusiastic charm.

“Brilliant, I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the fiddle. I can play the harmonica and the dulcimer”, I hollered, as my eyes ignited with delight.

“Dulcimer, really?”

“Yep, my grandmother taught me when I was a lad, although I’ve not played in years.”

“Ah the Dulcimer is a delightful instrument born in Appalachia…Tis sad that so few people know how to play it these days”, she said, as we raised our almost empty glasses to it.

“So, where is your family from in Ireland?”

“Yer not marrying me, you’re marryin’ ‘er”, she drunkenly hollered motioning for her friend and winking at me.

Her friend stomped off to the restroom and we chatted for another hour about Ireland, family, and what not. Her friend got so drunk that she finally didn’t care what was said. I went on about my family, plans, and future trips. She told me to come to Charleston, for I would have better chances there. I frequent that coffee shop quite a bit, but it was the first time that the craic was flowing as well as the beer.

Serene Scene

Jefferson Davis — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 05:01:06 +0000

Dear readers, I apologise for the lack of posting and what not. I’ve been really busy walking and kicking brittle pine cones into oblivion. I’ll be back very…very soon, I promise.

There are several shots from my Wicklow collection that I love, but the one below has to be one of my favourites. It was a brisk early Spring morn, when K8, Puppychild, and I treaded through Victoria’s Way. As we approached the pond, I was halted by the serene scene. Of all the places I have been to in Ireland, Victoria’s Way has to be the most intriguing. Thanks again K8.

Kitty and the Can Openers

Jefferson Davis — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 03:58:35 +0000

Hat tip to Phil for bringing this brilliant band to my attention. They are based out of Belfast, Northern Ireland. Right now, they are competing with fifteen other bands on Slice The Pie for money to record an album. Kitty and the Can Openers also have free downloads of their current EP on their website. Go vote for them on SlicethePie!

Southern Composure

Jefferson Davis — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 18:12:16 +0000

I’m sitting in my almost empty and dark office. The powerful luminance coming from the laptop bounces off windows illuminating wee droplets of dew clinging to the bare panes like lacquer to freshly milled wood. The air is heavy with dust and drifting pollen sparkling in the moonlight. Tiny zephyr’s hauntingly whir round the sharp corners of the house leaving me with a sense of urgency.

As most of you may know, I was supposed to leave for Dublin on Wednesday. I was scheduled to leave my local airport at 3:51PM on that grand day, when I’d say goodbye to the family and start a new life. All of that changed almost two weeks ago, when I realised that when I secured a job I’d have to prove that I had enough money to live off of for the six month visa. I think it is a grand rule that I wish we had in the states. I only have enough green backs to last for three or four months, if I live conservatively.

A little over two months ago I sold a valuable piece of property. I thought that I would have enough money left after paying off all of my debts to live for six months if needed. However, it seems that every creditor that I’ve ever owed had their hands out. And, friends and family started using me like a bank. My large chunk of change dwindled in an expedient manner. I still have a bit left but not enough for a six month venture. It doesn’t help matters that the American dollar isn’t worth crap at the moment… Thanks Mr. Bush!

I mindlessly drifted for two or three days. I stopped eating and walked a lot. Walking puts me in a state of serenity. After three days of not speaking to my family and not taking calls, I came out of the fog fighting. “Since I’m going to be stuck here for a few more months, I might as well be illuminating myself”, I cerebrated whilst standing on the edge of a precipice looking over Raven Cliff Falls.

I signed up for a few classes at the local University. I’m taking Early Art History and Design. I am supposed to start Friday, if I can get all of my paperwork sorted out. I’m going to go to school, work on my photography, and work on computers on the side. I helped my Uncle do some landscaping jobs last week. We have a few flowerbeds to install in an elderly lady’s garden tomorrow. Landscaping may be laborious, but I do so enjoy the outdoors.

Truthfully, I was very anxious about the move to Ireland, yet very excited of the notion of a new beginning. Many people have enquired as to why I love Ireland and speak of it with such veneration. Ireland has a certain mystique about it that I can’t quite explain. My love of Ireland started when I was a lad in school.

Throughout my youth, my mothers family had spoke of Ireland with the same reverence. On occasion, my grandmother would pull antique papers and pictures out of the attic and show me and my cousins our ancestors. She’d tell us of where we came from and how proud we should be to be who we are. She’d talk of America and all of the great people that make up the nation from all nationalities.

When I was ten, I had a social studies class that I excelled at. I was the teachers pet in every class I had. Teachers and professors alike still keep in touch with me. On one particular brisk winter morn she asked me to help her bring in a bunch of books from her car. We brought in about thirty small hardback books filled with vibrant pictures and words from numerous countries. She asked us all to take one from the pile. When I went to get mine, she pulled one out of her desk drawer that she had saved for me.

My eyes lit up with delight as the fluorescent lights illuminated the glittering green letters that scribed, Ireland. She smiled and whispered that she expected a good report. We took our books home to read. I stared at the pictures hoping to hop into this magical world depicted in the lines. I had to read what I could while my parents were still at work. At the time, it was a form of escapism for me. It is not that anymore, but at that time, I desperately needed some form of escape.

The older I got, the more I realised that we live on a small planet. Every culture is unique in its own way, but we are also so similar.

I’d like to thank all of my friends for all of the advice, help, and kind words. I am supposed to get my internet back on Wednesday. I hope to be back to regular blogging ASAP.

P.S.: Do you know what the up shot is to going back to University? Illumination! And, new skirts to chase…

Thank you all.

Best

RIP Ronnie Drew

Jefferson Davis — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 20:13:59 +0000

Ronnie Drew, the so called King of Ireland, passed away yesterday afternoon. He was and will remain a legend throughout the world. He had a rustic voice that is unforgettable.

Rest in Peace Ronnie Drew.

“American”

Jefferson Davis — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 20:33:54 +0000

Some of you may know that I am planning to leave for Dublin on September 5th. I have diligently contacted over a dozen potential landlords and roommates over the last few weeks. In these emails, I’ve honestly stated that I’m an American coming over for three months, possibly longer if all goes well. Of these almost twenty personal emails, I’ve received zero replies. So, this morning I started calling them via Skype. One said that the slot was filled (Strange that it still says available on daft.ie..)and the other said they were looking for long term. I respect that they want long term, but some do say short term, yet I have not been contacted.

Perhaps it is just my perception, but it’s like I automatically have a strike against me because I’m an “American”. The American government has done a lot of bad things over the years, but so has Germany, Italy, Spain, Austria, Slovakia, and a number of other EU countries. Yet, they are given a free pass. Come on in, they say.

I’m not asking for a red carpet welcome, just to be judged by my character not where I came from. I’m not coming to leech off of the Irish Health Care System, nor am I coming to meddle in their business. I’m ~~hopefully~~ coming because I love Ireland and Irish culture. And, most importantly, I’m coming for illumination.

Those that know me, know that I’m a gentleman. I’ve always thought of myself as a “Human Being”, not an American. Perhaps this stems from a multi-religious upbringing. I’m not ashamed of being American, but I’m not a believer in labels. I absolutely hate labels. Regardless of whether we like them or not, labels are an intricate part of society today. We are labeled rich if in a certain tax bracket, poor if in another bracket, stupid if below a certain number on a test, or a genius if above another number.

I’m not a logical person in the normal sense of the word. I’m a spiritual person. I reckon that has to do with going through deaths door more than once and being able to return. In college, I took all of the regular Algebra, Statistical, and Calculus classes. I made really good grades, but it really was not my cup of tea. There are so many things in this world that will never be explained with equations. We think we are so smart, yet we know so little.

Back to the subject at hand:

So, yeah, I’m an American, so what?

I had figured that the easiest thing to do would be getting a place to stay. I’m not really keen to the idea of sleeping on a bench at Stephen’s Green. If I don’t find something by the end of this week, my plans will be knocked out of whack.

So, I’m irritated.

I’m ill.

And, I’m downright pissed.

Excuse me, while I go for a walk to soothe my soul.

Simple Things

Jefferson Davis — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 03:46:15 +0000

You gave me that,
That small fragile thing;
To you it was insignificant
To me the entire cosmos.
It was with that,
That you pulled me in.
I couldn’t let go,
And never ever will.
Thank you for that,
That little simple thing.

Video by Third Eye Blind.

Long Weekend

Jefferson Davis — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 20:40:49 +0000

I had a very long weekend at the lake. I drank too much, swam too much, and danced too much. All in all, I had a grand break from the constant preparations here. I’m very energised and beat at the same time!

UPDATE: I realise that I was supposed to write a post about the weekend, but alas I have been very busy. Many apologies. I’ll be back Wednesday evening with one or two new post.

Forgetful Tuesday Jukebox

Jefferson Davis — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 04:35:03 +0000

Monday, I managed to pack up more mementoes and odds and ends. In fact, I got so busy cleaning that the time just flew by. The closer I get to my big day, the faster time seems to vanish. I figured I’d go mad within two or three days of not working, but I’m dong better than ever. I’m a well-grounded boyo about to leave the land of the free for who knows how long. Some people would call that madness?!

I made a wee slot in my afternoon to visit a local butterfly garden and lily pond. I gleefully walked down the trail and discovered some gorgeous flowers but no butterflies! They are supposed to have the most splendiferous monarchs in the area. It was extremely hot outside, so I can’t blame them for hiding in the shade. It was so hot that leaves and flowers were wilting or dried up altogether. I’m looking forward to cool weather.

I’ll post shots from the trip in a few hours. Have a grand Tuesday and take a picture.

Brown eyed Billy

Jefferson Davis — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 01:45:42 +0000

Early this afternoon, I was skimming through the blogs on my blogroll and discovered that Grannymar was doing a colour challenge created by Red Mum. I have been hankering with the idea of doing colour oriented post for a while, so this challenge is right up my alley.

I immediately picked orange but then settled on brown. I don’t particularly care much for brown. Then, I thought about going down to the zoo and snapping some shots of elephants, giraffe’s, and the like. So, I hopped in my vehicle and headed only 8km. down the road. I found some cheerful giraffe’s but sad elephants. Some people may think of the zoo as a form of entertainment, but not this ol’ boy. “Wild” animals should be able to roam the earth without fear of being caged for entertainment.

Below you’ll find a list of people that have taken the challenge and ran with it. Join in the fun.

Red Mum’s red collection.
Nathalie’s pink collection.
Darren’s green collection.
Estelle’s blue/bleu collection.
Annie’s yellow collection.
Grannymar’s brown collection

Waltzing to Molly’s Dew

Jefferson Davis — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 11:20:47 +0000

Early one morn whilst in Dublin, I arose before the sun. I grabbed my camera gear and headed out on an adventure. I headed down a very empty O’Connell street absent of the usual hustle and bustle that is Dublin. The air was crisp and still as I crossed the Liffey river. I made my way up Westmoreland street and onto Grafton Street. The clickety-clack of a slender woman’s high heels was the only sound reverberating round the shops that morn. The rising sun peering through the clouds was illuminating the dew laden upon Molly Malone, as I made my way towards her sculpture.

The dawning dew was ever so slightly running down her elegantly arranged coiffure, collecting in the rim of her ears, and cascading down to the nape of her neck. It flowed along the curvature of her breast and pooled in the fabric of her dress.

I stood there for a moment and cerebrated about what I’d say to such a resplendent woman. It was at this point that I realised that I must be British, because I over analyse everything.

Seriously, I need everyone’s help. When and if you have time, please have a look at my photos from my travels to Ireland and the UK. I’m trying to figure out which photos to put in my portfolio.

Click this link.

Thanks…

Numbers Game

Jefferson Davis — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 00:04:30 +0000

Credit card companies have had a love affair with me for a long time. I pay my dues on time and usually add in a bit extra. I called two of my credit card companies today to close out the accounts. Below you’ll find the gist of the conversation:

“Hello, how are you today, Mr. Davis?” A cheerful bloke asks on the other end of the long wire that crosses the Rubicon.

“I’m grand, and yourself?” I ask him whilst putting my tea on.

“I’m great…thanks for asking”, says he with a bit of surprise.

“I need to close out the two credit cards that I have with your bank.”

“Might I ask why?”

“Because, I will no longer be under the grip of large corporations spreading their vile commercialization of everything I hold dear…”

“………………………………………………………………………………………………………….O……….kay’, he mutters during a long pause.

“That, and your interest rates are through the roof and I’m leaving the states for an indefinite amount of time”, says I whilst laughing.

“Interest rates, I can understand”, he jokingly replies

“By the way, what is your mother’s maiden name so I can access your accounts…?”

“Oh my God, don’t get me started….That question is a direct invasion of my privacy (pri-va-see)”, says I, whilst leaping from my desk chair.

“Sorry, we cannot access your account without it…Anyway, do you not mean privacy (pry-va-see)?”

“No, I mean Privacy (Pri-va-see).”

“May I have the maiden name, sir”, says he in a cheesed off tone.

“You’ve already got my DNA, so you might as well have me Mum’s maiden name, right?”

“Yep”, says he while snickering.

“If you don’t mind me inquiring, where are you going?”

“Here we go again…Ah, who am I kidding, they’ll find out anyway…I’m moving to Ireland for a minimum of three months but hopefully more, if I can secure a job and a visa.”

“Ah dude, that’s awesome…I’ve always wanted to go”, says the rep whilst getting excited.

“Save your money and come on over…I’ve got a friend that loves to show around sunglass wearing tourist…he’d even show you the bogs”, says I, as I started setting this poor chap up for a fall.

“Give me your email and I’ll email you some traveling tips and suggestions on places to stay”, sneakingly says I.

“That would be awesome…I’ve always wanted to go. My dad’s mother is from there”, says he as though we were making a brotherly bond.

“All right, I’ll give you your fist tip….”

“….Dude, go ahead…I’m psyched…I can’t wait to tell the wife”, says he while papers ruffle in the background.

“Okay, when you go into a pub in Ireland and you order your first pint of Guinness from the barkeep – make sure you call the bartenders, barkeeps…they will be insulted if you don’t – grab it as soon as he sets it down the first time…If he tries to take it from you, just wave him off and turn it up, froth and all”, says I whilst trying not to laugh.

“Thanks dude!”

I am mean and debt free!

Interuption of Services

Jefferson Davis — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 05:01:30 +0000

Many apologies to everyone for not posting. I’ve been incredibly busy. Who hasn’t, right? I’ll have the follow up of the previous post up by Friday afternoon. I swear! Have a little faith.

A few wee Scriblings ’bout Me

Jefferson Davis — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 04:26:09 +0000

Grandad did it! He tagged me a few days ago (sorry for the lateness of the post) for a six word meme. The gist of the meme is to describe one’s self in six words. I’m going to give this a couple of goes. J

Journeyman

Energised

Featherweight

Fisherman

Enigma

Recalcitrant

Sociable

Observer

Nonpareil

Six words when I’ve had too much to drink:

Nefarious, Devious, Audacious, Flirtatious, Gregarious, & Hilarious

Six more words:

Justified, Sanctified, Electrified, Amplified, Non-classified, & Diversified

Six real words ‘bout me:

Humble: I reckon you’ll find that I’m a very down to earth fellow that can be fishing one minute and writing poetry and taking photos the next.

Honourable: If I ever promise you anything, I’ll do my best to achieve it. And, when it comes to women, I’m like a faithful mutt waiting for a handout.

Benevolent: Believe it or not, I’m a very helpful and kind person. I don’t talk about helping people on the blog, because that would be totally rude to those that I’ve helped.

Silly: I am a clown but usually on accident. I like to play! J

Deamy: I see things as they should be or how they could be in a different realm.

Artsy: I shouldn’t have to tell you by now how much I love Art! Tis my life ambition to turn words into picturesque scenes and picturesque shots into words.

Now, onto my favourite part! Who shall I meme? Hmm…How ‘bout:

Absolutely Vanilla (when she gets back to blogging)

Brian F. (Just cause)

Baino (subconsciously she loves these darn things.)

Gayé (I’ve not pestered her with one of these in quite a while.)

Suzan (I’ve not annoyed her with one of these in a long time either.)

Kilos of Craic: Rock out with a Stout

Jefferson Davis — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 19:13:41 +0000

Ladies and Gentleman, the latest episode of Kilos of Craic is ready for the taking. In this weeks show, Jefferson Davis, Brian F., Brian Damage, Baino, and Dr. Don hash out everything from Whiskey Suicides to Communist.

Topics discussed on this weeks show:

Episode 20

Jefferson Davis — Mon, 07 Aug 2006 01:32:00 +0000

The – It’s All the Truth Episode of The Jefferson Davis Saga…
In This Milestone Episode, I discuss how and why I started blogging and podcasting. In addition, I talk about all of the frequent flyer miles I’ve put on my Delta card lately, the heat wave that is overtaking the east coast of America and Europe, troop reinforcements going to Iraq, and the turmoil in the Middle East. Short stories are discussed, as well as the deadline to submit a short story to Skint Writer’s blog. Oscar Wilde’s book, The Picture of Dorian Gray is admired. Finally, I disclose two pieces of information about myself. One being that I’ll be studying in London, starting in January of next year, and you will have to tune in to find out what story number two is all about.

Download Episode 20

Have The Jefferson Davis Saga Brought to You via iTunes

“A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal,” Oscar Wilde.

Episode 51 Trailer – The Return of the Jefferson Davis Saga (2)
Southern Composure (8)
7 Day Hiatus (4)
Literal City (0)
Daring Moonbeams (1)

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