Monday, August 30, 2010

The Devil In Killarney

I was born in old Killarney
when I was very young.
I still recall the lullaby
my dear old mother sung.

Too ra loo ra loo ra, too ra loo ra rye
Too ra loo ra loo ra, hush now don't you cry.
Too ra loo ra loora, too ra loo ra rye,
Too ra loo ra loo ra, it's an Irish lullaby

Yes, I was raised in Ireland when I was small.
The girls they used to toss me like an Indian rubber ball.
Now I would not let them for fear they would let me fall.

Mother was superstitious, as Irish as could be.
She talked about little leprechauns and a thing she called banshee.
I listened to her stories from the time that I could lisp,
There was little men all dressed in green and a thing she called will-o-the wisp.

She said never be born on a Friday,
It is very unlucky day --
St. Patrick was born on Friday
when his mother was away!

As a boy growing up in Ireland, I was a sight to be seen,
I slid down the rocks and tore holes in my socks,
Then my mother would patch them with green.

Both father and mother were Irish so I was Irish too
They kept a pig in the parlor and it was Irish stew!
They believed in the luck of the Irish
and in kissing the blarney rock,
They claimed that the luck of the Irish
was hid in the green shamrock.

Dad had the wit of the Irish -- it was plain to see.
When I asked him if he were not Irish, did he know what he would be?
Sure I know begorra, I would be ashamed of myself, said he.

At times he would say the devil is dead, the devil is dead.
Oh, no, I said, he is not dead. I hear him in your blarney!
And buried into Killarney!

Tom Hoy

More Later....

Friday, August 27, 2010


One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a Christmas gift...
The next year, I didn't buy her a gift.
When she asked me why, I replied,
"Well, you still haven't used the gift I bought you last year!"
And that's how the fight started.....

My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed.
I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have Sex?'
' No,' she answered. I then said,
'Is that your final answer?'
She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying, 'Yes..'
So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."
And that's when the fight started...

I took my wife to a restaurant.
The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.
"I'll have the rump steak, rare, please."
He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?"
" Nah, she can order for herself."
And that's when the fight started....

My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.
I asked her, "Do you know him?"
"Yes", she sighed, "He's my old boyfriend.... I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since."
"My God!" I said, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"
And then the fight started...

When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first, the shed, the boat, making beer.. Always something more important to me. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point. When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house.. I was gone only a minute, and when I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. I said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."
The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.

My wife sat down next to me as I was flipping channels.
She asked, "What's on TV?"
I said, "Dust."
And then the fight started...

Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the boat up to the van, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day. I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.. I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."
My loving wife of 5 years replied, "And, can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?"
And that's how the fight started...

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.
She said, "I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds."
I bought her a bathroom scale.
And then the fight started......

After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver's License to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later. The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'.
So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair. She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application..
When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office...
She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.'
And then the fight started...

My wife was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.
She was not happy with what she saw and said to me,
"I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly.
I really need you to pay me a compliment.'
I replied, "Your eyesight's damn near perfect."
And then the fight started........

Anonymous Email

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Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Modern 3 Bears

A far more accurate account of the events of that fateful morning....

Baby bear goes downstairs, sits in his small chair at the table. He looks into his small bowl. It is empty. 'Who's been eating my porridge?' he squeaks.

Daddy Bear arrives at the big table and sits in his big chair. He looks into his big bowl and it is also empty. 'Who's been eating my porridge?!?' he roars.

Mummy Bear puts her head through the serving hatch from the kitchen and yells, 'For God's sake, how many times do I have to go through this with you idiots? It was Mummy Bear who got up first. It was Mummy Bear who woke everyone in the house. It was Mummy Bear who made the coffee. It was Mummy Bear who unloaded the dishwasher from last night and put everything away. It was Mummy Bear who swept the floor in the kitchen. It was Mummy Bear who went out in the cold early morning air to fetch The newspaper and croissants. It was Mummy Bear who set the damn table.'

'It was Mummy Bear who walked the bloody dog, cleaned the cat's litter tray, gave them their food, and refilled their water.'

'And now that you've decided to drag your sorry bear-arses downstairs and grace Mummy Bear with your grumpy presence, listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once....'

Anonymous Email

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Monday, August 23, 2010

Poineers' Dreams

It is good to see the old folks hand in hand
walking side by side across the land
The homestead where they settled long ago
when health and strength they used to know
They think about the pioneer trail they blazed
and the shack where all their children had been raised
They can't believe how much the farm has changed its looks
They miss the fields with rows of golden stooks
And long to see things that once had been
the binder and big steam threshing machine
The straw stacks that the blower piled up high
and nights when burning straw stacks lit the sky
They miss the jolly men that formed the crew
and the hustle when the old steam whistle blew
The books who piled the harvest tables high
with everything from prime roast beef to pie
In their minds the farm is not the same
they remember the route that change had came
They never thought they would see the day
when all the former things had passed away
The country school where children used to play
now is gone forever ever so they say
Close friends and neighbours they held dear
they never though they all would disappear
The small town where they dealt close by
it is sad to have to watch i slowly die
It is strange to see what time can do
everything has changed that they once knew
The railway station where they caught the train
was a pleasure they will never have again
Then world is quickly changing so it seems
things the old folks knew seem just like dreams
In their dreams the pioneers still look back
to the homestead where they started with a shack.

Tom Hoy

P.S. I composed this poem from my own memories. I am a retired farmer. I hauled straw to fire the old steam engine in 1918 when I was 10 years old. Men were scarce then due to World War I. I have seen all the changes on the farm..... Tom Hoy.

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Friday, August 20, 2010

The Sensitive Man

A woman meets a man in a bar.

They talk; they connect; they end up leaving together.

They get back to his place, and as he shows her around his apartment.

She notices that one wall of his bedroom is completely filled with soft, sweet, cuddly teddy bears.

There are three shelves in the bedroom, with hundreds and hundreds of cute, cuddly teddy bears carefully  placed in rows, covering the entire wall!

It was obvious that he had taken quite some time to lovingly arrange them and she was immediately touched by the amount of thought he had put into organizing the display.

There were small bears all along the bottom shelf, medium-sized bears covering the length of the middle shelf, and huge, enormous bears running all the way along the top shelf.

She found it strange for an obviously masculine guy to have such a large collection of Teddy Bears, She is quite impressed by his sensitive side, but doesn't mention this to him.

They share a bottle of wine and continue talking and, after awhile, she finds herself thinking, 'Oh my Goodness! Maybe, this guy could be the one!

Maybe he could be the future father of my children?'

She turns to him and kisses him lightly on the lips..

He responds warmly.

They continue to kiss, the passion builds, and he romantically lifts her in his arms and carries her into his bedroom where they rip off each other's clothes and make hot, steamy love.

She is so overwhelmed that she responds with more passion, more creativity, more heat than she has ever known.

After an intense, explosive night of raw passion with this sensitive guy, they are lying there together in the afterglow. The woman rolls over, gently strokes his chest and asks coyly, 'Well, how was it?'

The guy gently smiles at her, strokes her cheek, looks deeply into her eyes, and says:

'Help yourself to any prize from the middle shelf'
Anonymous Email

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Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Remembering -- Peter Sellers

Recently I caught The Life and Death of Peter Sellers on the idiot-box, and it started my brain churning back overtime.  I loved watching the Pink Pather series as a youngster, either as a family rental, or with some luck a trip to the theatre with my mom.  

When I was older I marvelled in his performances in The Party and Dr. Strange Love. But his move that leaves me totally in awe is Being There. Based on a novel by Jerzy Kosinski, this is a total departure from Inspector Clouseau. Peter Sellers plays an illiterate gardener named Chauncey (Chance), who basically makes Forest Gump look brilliant. By a quirk of fate, Chance becomes an advisor to the wealthy.  I do need to read the novel, but it is a fine piece of cinema, that should be on everyone's must see list.

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Monday, August 16, 2010

Safari In The Rockies

You don't have to go to another land
Though you're smitten by the hunters dream
For the Rocky mountains are alive with game
And there is fishing in every stream.

You can sing and yodel to your hears content
Where the elk and bull moose call
You can feast your eyes on God's handi-work
When he paints the tree leaves in the fall.

You might see a bear if your eyesight is keen
Or a bighorn sheep on a hill
If you are so inclined you may get a sip
of juice from a well hidden still.

There are lakes of many colours
Like the patch-work on Joseph's coat
Where canyons are deep and the mountain slopes steep
You may spot a big mountain goat

For a man to become a good hunter
He must keep his sights trained on his goals
Some men get a thing called buck fever
And shoot the air full of big holes.

Where coyotes yodel and bush wolves howl
Hot on the trail of a deer
You don't have to go to Switzerland
To hear a yodel loud and clear.

This is the land where the dinosaur roamed
Where now deer and antelope play
A land where a man can be himself
I think I am going to stay.

Tom Hoy

This speaks of the ecology of the West Today.  I will be putting these kind of poems in the Centennial time capsule along with some of my pioneer history Stories that Western Producer published in their Western People Magazine... Tom Hoy

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Saturday, August 14, 2010

Gay Caballero

There once was a gay caballero
he came from Rio de Janeiro.
With nice oily hair and full of hot air
that is when he got a bum steero.

He was seeking a fair senorita
not thin yet not too much meata.
In a swell cabareta he met her
they drank one or two as other folks do.
The night was wet but they got wetter.

She told him her name was Estello
she said stick around me you fellow.
The mosquitoes they bite and they are terrible tonight
and you smell kike sweet citronella.

The patroner thought he was a phony
they way he was slinging baloney.
He told her she was so sweeta
he swept her right off of her feeta.

She was a dancer and singer
everyone was pointing a finger.
Her husband walked in what he did was a sin
Omega heard birds sing tweet tweeta.

He returned home to Rio de Janeiro
but he did not look much like a hero.
His wife met him there minus his hair
she almost chewed off his earo.

She told him that show was not Sarai
she jumped on his big sombrero.
Not only that she needed a rat
like Moses needed a pharaoh.

Tom Hoy

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Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Anthony Bourdain -- Medium Raw

I just finished devouring Anthony Bourdain's latest offering Medium Raw. Partly autobiographical, partly his rants, likes and dislikes that fans of Bourdian will enjoy. The language is still not for the faint-of-heart, as the pages and chapters are peppered with colourful language.

Bourdain talks about some people is less than a fan of, balances that with some fandom of some skilled practitioners of the culinary arts. He provides his insight in to the state of the current culinary world, and a few notes from the past.

I love his write and style, and so I enthusiastically recommend this to others. If you don't dig is work like I do, scan it and see if this will convert you.

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Monday, August 9, 2010

Good Time Charlie

Good Time Charlie liked to booze
he never knew how to refuse.
Good Time Charlie blamed his wife
he said she tried to change his life.

Good Time Charlie was a soak
he drank till he was stoney broke.
Whenever Good Time hit the booze
he said it was to drown his blues.

Charlie's wife would cry and wait
Good Time always came home late.
Singing cocka-doodle-doo hi there wife
tonight I had the best time of my life.

Charlie's wife took much abuse
then one day she cooked his goose.
When she could not take no more
she knocked Good Time to the floor.

He will never cheat again
wink his eye at some old hen.
I just got word today
Good Time Charlie passed away.

It is sad how he behaved
while his good wife for him slaved.
She stuck by him long and brave
now she is weeping over Good Time Charlie's grave.

Tom Hoy

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Friday, August 6, 2010

ACQUINE: Automatic Photo Rating - Aesthetic Quality Inference Engine

As I've been trying to decide on my final portfolio, I needed some criteria other than my personal preference. I have some friends with good eyes, but sometimes they are sympathetic to my plite.  I've already stripped what I have down, and what is left can subjected to others preferences. I'm always looking for more feedback of my photos because I have moments of brilliance, and sometimes not so much. Everything I've uploaded to my flickr account has been reviewed a few times before I think it's "reasonable", not all of it is perfect, but I liked it.  

Introducing ACQUINE, one of the most useful, and most frustrating things to happen to my photography. ACQUINE is a software based aesthetic engine;  in effect a software based photo critic.  The software scores an image out of 100, 50 is considered a portrait by a typical quality professional photog, but anything over 40 is considered an above average image.

I've uploaded a number of images and while my average is in the 40s, my highs are in the 90s and my lows are actually in the single digits!! I know it's not the final word on what is a good photo, and the designers have challenges with the engine; it is a work in progress after all.  They mention limitations of the system, but it still is frustrating.  It shows me some gems, and then totally disses some of mine and some others favourites.

If your curious about your own work give it a whirl....

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Wednesday, August 4, 2010


9 is wonderful animated movie, set it a post apocalyptic world.  The human world has been destroyed by robots, and all that are left is a handful of animatronic dolls.  It is hard to talk about this movie in great detail without playing the spoiler, so I won't.

The movie starts a little slow, without much talking, so you need to exercise a little patience; it does pick up quickly. There are a number of wonderful McGuyver like moments throughout the movie that make you chuckle; a handful of others are reminiscent of Indiana Jones, great fun.

The animation is fluid; the world complex, and would make Tim Burton or James Cameron proud.  The characters are quirky, well voiced, and very charming.

Well worth a watch.

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Monday, August 2, 2010

A Friend In Deed

Some Animals are not so dumb
on human friends they like to bum
I am sure the average pussy cat
has never seen a mouse or rat.
But he knows how to act the fool
and play with grandma's ball of wool.
He loves it when she strokes his fur
he shuts his eyes and starts to purr
They say a dog is man's best friend
on him you can a small fortune spend.
On nice soft rugs he loves to sleep
he wastes no time in counting sheep.
But poochy knows a trick or two
he gives affection that is true
He greets you with a friendly yip
And does not give you any lip.
With friends like that I have no quarrel
but they are hard to keep in urban sprawl
From them some folks could take a tip
in the art of true companionship.

Tom Hoy

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Sunday, August 1, 2010

His Still Small Voice

I am no the man I used to be
and maybe never was
But I believe the way to life
is hid within God's laws

Men have come and men have gone
they pass like a river
Some have dreams and plans and schemes
but none stay here forever

I have lived and searched for truth
for many, many years
Although I never gave up hope
I shed some bitter tears

It is not just things that others say
that I don't like to hear
But things I wish I never said
that ring inside my ear

Words are like a boomerang
be sure they are kind are true
They always travel in a curve
and come right inside my ear

I listen to God's still small voice
as he whispers like an elf
His words that give life to my soul
I have learned to speak myself

Now here is what hes says to me
my son Jesus is the key
His love and truth will make you free
he opened my door to life for thee

I fore no one to live or die
the choice is theirs I will tell you why
Persuade a man against his will
He will have the same opinion still

Tom Hoy

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