I love me some shepherd’s pie and a pint most days of the year. But when March 17 rolls around, I avoid green and McPubs like the plague. Arse clowns in the cups assume fake brogues and dance around like leprechauns who’ve finally found their pot o’ gold. And mo chuisle, it's "Erin Go Bragh," not Erin go braless.Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you’re not even Irish, for feck’s sake!
Take off the dumbass green bowler—it’s your unlucky charm today, Danny Boy—so I can beat you about the ears with a shillelagh. Better yet, here’s a pipin’ hot pot of colcannon. If you want to be Irish, you’ll need to suffer a little.
(photo: blogs.pitch.com/
You and me both. St. Patrick's Day would better be dubbed, "Amateur Night." Avoid.
ReplyDeleteI was writing something similar for my own blog today. Now, I feel my anger has properly and more accurately been voiced. Thanks for stealing my thunder.
ReplyDeleteNo problem, Cameron. It's what I do. ;)
ReplyDeleteWhich is worse, St. Patrick's Day or New Year's Day?
ReplyDeleteI take a knee on both of them, although I will say that my NYEs have been much more traumatic (http://thingsiwanttopunchintheface.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-eve.html), since I've been smart enough to avoid SPD most years.
ReplyDeleteThat picture makes me nostalgic...
ReplyDeleteYeah, it's so hard to find the charm (lucky or not) in green puke.
ReplyDeleteQuite possibly my least-fave "holiday" of the year. Hoping to avoid all the blarney.
ReplyDeleteWhen I die, take me back to Ireland, and drag me through the forty pools-o-green.
ReplyDeleteAch, the midget bit me!