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A park-n-go with a bit of holiday puzzle.
Thees was gonna be a seemple leetle Irish skirtz hide to celerbrate the nearlyby holiday and history, but I decided to up the ante just a bit to give a bit of challenge and poetry to all ye nearby challenge-ridden, puzzle-ridden, tree-climbin, sewer-stormin cacherz who so grately dzir such stuff. Yes, this is for all ye ziggies and zaggies, and teams and eagles, and seekers and thrillerz, and borkiez and berksez, and wheelin and keegin, and cubz fanz (speshly irish fanz) and sockz fanz, and shazzamz and manz, and jax and hawkz and hunz and hanz and anz, and hunturz and finnandererz and kerdoodlerz, and flien kitrz, and catz and beedeerz, and ninjaz and all smiles and sunshinez, and sandeez and salzez, and macs and mics, and deenerz en doodlerz, and paulzez, and plain ole air heds, and karatierz and kordydoggerz and werkrz and mgbeerz, and winnerz and loserz, and maggots, and drunkers, drankerz and drinkerz, and all ye other cacher typez out there. It’s not really too difficicult, ‘cept fer maybe the puzzl part, ‘cauz I did get a wee bit tipzzie en whoozie on that green sudzie stuff [hic] when settin here wit me good budz St. Paddy and Fionn and I waz tryin to figger out dem crazie cordz and fit in all those numberz.
Therby, when I finally got down to it, a wee bit o’ the Irish had got into me in the form of some o’ green sudsy foamy stuff and my senses was startin to get befuddled and bemuddled [hic]. I needed te set down an’ rest a spell to clear me head [hic] and me wee green mug somehow musta lost it’s liquidz and rolled into a nearby skirtz. Or something similar, I cant really rermember.
Pleeeeze help me find it. And when yer do find it, pleeez mark yer name wit’ one o them fancie schmancie indelible wee fine magik markerz yer all carry around in ye knicker drawer pocketz.
And… if ye happen to stop in the local establishment, pleeez say hi to me buddy Fionn from me (The Intoxicator) and rermind him o this cute leettle poem about him. Now yer all prolly wondrin how to solv thees puzlr, and ther may be a numr of wayz as with anerthin. One thin yer coud try is ter gathr up ever singl refrensh to ervr singl word that lookz lik a numbr, and then add in ever uthr numbr yer see on the cach page, an mebbee effen sum ye don’t see (that happenz ter me all the tim) and trpil em twic an add em up agin, and thern divide m by yer most faverit number pi (I jest noes yuer all luv that one). Er, yer coud download the invizibl pictrs to yer computr and mebbee the backgrnd won too, and then fiddl faddl around wit the image in yer foto software and invert the culourz and such til yer ken see sum hiddn meesej. Oooor… yer kud try an see if sum intoxicatr ramblins make sum soert of hiddn language that meebbe yer coud googl ter get a hiddn typ font er such. Now all these seemz perty complicater if yer noes whatz I menz. Nowww, anethr ideerz would be ter count up all of eny serch certen lettr her, sech as ther lettr z witch I sem to hev lotz ev and then add thet ter one o them kordz or ther othr. Ooor, yer coud count how mennie timz I made sem typogrephicel booboos (oh men, thet would tek a good fortnight er two er seven. Mebbee yer ked get tegthr wit yer puzzl buddyz and yer monkeex an sech an hash it abet til somthin kums clere. Oooorr…yer cud jest taik ther easier tyme-provenn burkzshire method aka PAF an given the ole teleefono a jinglejangle to one o yer cachin budz and jest aks em flat out were ther dern thing is. Bee shure to do thet on yer way ther soos to nyet waist 2 mush tym. That 1 ushlly werks. Yoowwza, ther are jest sooooo menie wayz ter solz sum trickie puzzlrs.
Methinks howevr, though, thet theez number referencz in ther pome are spozd ter mean sumpin, but itz kinda befuddling me juzt now. If yer do figger it out, mebbe yer kenletz mee now so Iz ken get bak ther ef it getz missin er messd wit. Er, herz a deere - somehowz assign sum computd numral refernzes to replace der end partz of der given cordz. Fer an ideerz, me seemz ter rermember that most of the poem numberz has single- or two-digit numberz, cept one naughty one may have three digitz. Then, ther total (not tee-totalin) rezult should meebe be a three-digit numberz . Also, methinks…if yer adz up all them numberz, and yer getz yerself a 3-digit, and replace the last 3 of the North, yer should be good ther; and then yer ken try to jest put ther first, middle er last digit fer ther fifth line of the poemz numbr and then also ther number digit fer ther eleventh linez numbr digit, that should be good fer the west. Anether thought iz hed is yer could giggle an googl a bunch o silly randomness and see if ther might be sem hidden meaninz in all a this, specially mebbe in the pictr from ther backgrownd, or mebbe hiddn in the sexual (oooops, I meant textual) codz. Hehe [hic]. Or, on another tinks (no, not thet tinks, she es 2 nice 2 mekk funa), methinks yer could try to jest randomly get yersef out ther and giver ther good old musclen trial-and errior method of findin thees leetle guy. Now I cedda gun tru sem mer trubl fer yez, en pervidd a fanci geeeeoo-chekker fer yer comfort and lest wasten tym leekin fer te rong kerds, bet tat wedda jest tekken me tooo, 2 long (oh, I sed long, ding), at lest a couple er 4 or 5 farty-far fourtnites er so, Il jest letchas try it yerselvez fer a spel en see whet happens. Now, yer prolly getting terd (oops I ment tired0 o all these ramblinz and yer prolly startin to peter out (hehe I sed peter) from tryin to getcher head (ding) around these figures. But I no yer wil get ther sooner or latr. Cuz youz gotzta clen out thees arenas. Maybe by the next fortnight (no, thet is not a hint) or mebbe by ther next podcast or festiverz (jest down der street) get tergethr. Now I relly am startn ter get darn ner tuckerd and filibustrd out here, so best rap it up her an wishn yous best o the holiday, and have a stiff one (oops dingz agen) on mee.
Good Irish luck to all of ye, specily ye Irish, on solvin this (and speshly the FTF-erz), good luck on findin the final. Please be a responsible cacher and drive and cache with a cler mind and a cler conshense.
For three and twenty years the hall
Of Tara’s one King was razed and burned
On Daylight Savings Time Eve - But none recall
Who from that eldritch full-day-and-night sleep returned
The harping of the ‘devilish’ evil elf –
In double mystery was Tara cloaked –
Until drinking-aged Fionn himself
The right of rest and all of the GONIL board members invoked
One summer’s end, and joined their feast.
A single modest newbie cacher of humble mien,
He sat the lowest, drank the least, but cached every day of the week
Observed one merrymaking scene.
At midnight sharp came Ans came in
And all the GONIL board members shrouded all with slumber foul
Except the drinking-aged paladin,
Who hid nineteen spears beneath his cowl
And pressed the single blade against his cheek.
Then Allan stalked around the five rooms
And wrathfully began to speak in seven tongues.
“This is brave Goll McMorna’s double-doom,
That once a full moon shall Tara fall
And fire her rising triple towers destroy.
And thus I curse you, one and all!”
At witch, up sprang the solo young cacher…
And placed me one wee frothy mug
Congratulations to DinaWorks, KodyDog00, and mgbmusic for FTF
Additional Hints
(Decrypt)
xrrc ybj naq fgnl bhgn gur jnl b gurz zhttyrem