What is Saint Patrick's Day? Well, I will tell you. It's what's called a feast day that celebrates the life, and times of Saint Patrick. Saint Patrick is best know as, you guessed it, the patron saint of Ireland. This and that and blah fuckin blah fuckin blah. Come on! Lets be honest with each other. It's a day filled with green clothes, parades, and drunken mistakes. Yet, these mistakes can always be forgiven. Always just a simple disregard, or tiny slip up someone makes.
“Oh Honey, I didn't mean to kiss that guy. He was wearing that same “Kiss me I'm Irish” shirt. HONESTLY!”
“Baby, that lap dance was for the celebration of St. Patty's day! Couldn't you tell? She was wearing shamrock pasties!”
Or something along those lines. I base most of my information and material off of stories, movies, stereotypes and of course, the internet. Is that wrong? Well, I don't give a rats ass.
I can honestly tell you that this Saint Patrick's Day was the first one that I actually got...
How to put this delicately?
Like the mistakes people make, I wanted in on the action. I wanted to make some grand drunken gesture this wonderful March 17th. I wanted to do something that would ultimately shock and awe in either an epic, or abominable way. Yet, the voice of reason told me that he wouldn't allow it His threats consisted of nothing more than Middle School humiliation. Yet, It worked. I wanted nothing to do with his titty twisting ways. It was a solid defense, or offense? Never the less, it was a potent warning I wanted to avoid. Then again, could it be worth it? Could some empty-headed statement of complete extravagance strike your heart? Or, would it cast me away into a black-hole never to return from?
Shall we find out?
Should I flip a coin, roll a die, or draw a card? I'll be honest with you. The coin is heads, the die is one, and the card is hearts. Three out of three. Then again, I called for tails, I rolled for six, and I drew for clubs.
Damn, No Luck of the Irish.