I am Y.P.R.'s Boring Logo
Fun, Fickle Fiction (for Free!) Fact, Opinion, Essay, & Review Spectacular Features, Calendrical Happenings, Media Gadflies Poetry & Lyric Advice, How To, & Self-Help Listicles Semi-Frequent Columns Correspondence (Letters To and Letters From) Interviews The Book Club Letter from the Editors Disquieting Modern Trends Birthday Cards to Celebrities New & Noteworthy The Y.P.aRt Gallery Et Cetera, Et Cetera, Et Cetera The Y.P.aRchives Submit

 Atøm | Spanish
supportbar.jpg Bea!   Creative Commons License
This journal is licensed under a Creative Commons License and powered by Movable Typo 4.01.
Y.P.R. & Co.

The Journal of Literary Satire | Hastily Written & Slopilly Edited
Thursday, January 19, 2006

Poor Old Johnny Ray

Come On Eileen”, by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, from the album Too-Rye-Ay
First week of September, 1982

Eileen BrennanI never really know what to make of this song. It reminds me of drunken Irishmen. Now, don’t go calling the A.C.L.U. or the Leprechauns of America or some other such group. I’m not insinuating that all Irishmen are drinkers. I’m insinuating that of the large population of people that can be found screaming along to this song at the top of their lungs will be Irishmen. And Women. And they’ll be drunk. Most likely shitfaced. In Manhattan alone, this has to be one of the top five most played songs on any given St. Patrick’s Day. Do I sing along to this when I’m drunk and it comes on in my Saloon of choice? Sure. Then again, I’m a quarter Irish. Loop closed. Let’s go get pissed. Oh first though, for the longest time I thought Dexy’s Midnight Runners were trying to coax me into coming on Eileen. How gross for her. If that’s not what they’re getting at, shouldn’t the title actually be “Come On, Eileen”? As in, “Eileen, for fuck’s sake, will you come on already? You’ve been making that bangers and mash for at least fourteen hours.” No matter the context, I can assure, you, I will not be coming on any Eileens anytime soon. Sure, sure, that was as sophomoric a joke as they come. C’est la vie. Now… let’s get pissed.


Slightly less annoying cover by Badly Drawn Boy (featuring Jools Holland)