Sometimes, during times of potato famine, you have to come to the big city and shake it. That's right. Shake it. You do what you have to and you never look back. That's the Irish way.
So, being properly Irish and all, what with all of my grandparents either readily admitting that they are German, or claiming that they are Scotch-Irish (what does that even mean? It means German and embarrassed, that's what it means.), I am going to celebrate St Patty's Day this weekend. Ich bin ein Proper Irish Lad. And lad-like is the type of behavior that I hope to participate in on Saturday. Shamrock Fest seems to have an interesting mix of music (Paul Oakenfold, anyone? Where the hell has he been? Obviously waking up way later than I have been.) and a hell of a lot of beer.
So some of you who don't really know me well might not understand that I hate crowds, people anger me, and everyone is normally wrong and/or broken. That is my standard modus operandi. I am going to try and push that all aside and love that I get to spend Saturday afternoon drinking beer with some friends, and listening to bands that I either vaguely remember/have never heard of. Sláinte!
For those of you that wish to join me in making merry/silently judging people, Shamrock Fest is here.
Top of the morning to you, you pasty slackers! K Thx Bai!
P.S. I will be reporting back as to hijinx achieved at this excuse to be drunk during the day. Love!
2 comments:
So now you need an excuse to be drunk during the day.
You've changed badger.
Ahhhh! It's true! I have changed! Pedestrian suburban mores are creeping in!
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