STEMMIT WARS Day 4 - Green: It's all in the delivery - as learned form my dad

Hey there fellow #Steemwars warriors. A bit of a digression (call it a distraction if you will, while #TeamAustralia kicks your arse on the battlefield).

This piece is in honour of my dad, who died some years ago. One of my favourite stories my dad used to tell was the day he got drunk on creme de' menth.

You all know it? Peppermint liqueur? Green?

And not just the innocent green of a rainforest, but the evil green of bile from the guts of demons on the seventh plane of hell kind of green.

The kind of green which if you vomit on your best white shirt, it's never gonna be white again kind of green.

I should have flagged a spoiler alert there.

So, yes, dad spewed on his best white shirt, and it was never white again.

Another of my dad's favourite stories (and yes, this one involved spewing too) was of when he visited a relatives' farm just after WWII had finished. He was a little kid at the time (yes, gives you some indication of how old I am...). Anyways, it was the first time he had tasted strawberries. Or cream. Or strawberries AND cream. Before that, for his entire life until that point, war rations meant that ordinary people just couldn't afford that kind of stuff.

We can see where this going too.

But my favourite story of dad's was how, in the lead-up to the 1956 olympics, as the torch passed through Sydney on its way to Melbourne, my dad and a group of his friends got dressed up in their scungiest singlets and shorts and got a bunch of old rags on the end of a stick doused in kero, lit them, and ran around the corner to the applause of thousands of cheering olympics fans.

Anyway, let's just say that all those people expecting this were disappointed.

Beautiful.

All images courtesy of pixabay.com

#TeamAustralia