The Irish Question

Well, lookee here. It seems the nation's second outright yearly excuse to get shit-housed has arrived.

Say what you will about the apocryphal origins of that snake-driving sumbitch, the end result these days is that we get to thumb our nose at any sort of responsibility to drink a metric fuck ton of booze.

I've posted in the past about my resentment of these holidays...which sends forth the amatuer to drink with the pros, the latter of whom recognize no drinking calendar other than "today." Bosses will be on the prowl in the morning, the uptight prohibitionists will sniff derisively at your bloodshot eyes and gamey stench.

Fuck them. As much as I don't care about St. Patrick's day per se(Lots of English blood, so I naturally wish to oppress them) I will side with the dysfunctional Irish over the sober. After all, we get polluted on Tuesdays by rote.

Hopefully each of you has a bar in mind for today, so I'll spare you the various activities that are advertised in the local papers and leave you with a simple charge: Consume.