Let’s observe shall we? Ah, here comes St Patrick’s Day. A day where we here in NYC observe all types of partying people from all walks of life taking a nip of the whiskey, eating some badly made corned beef and cabbage, and washing it all down with green tinted beer. That green beer which is usually the frat boy special known as Bud Light, Coors Light, or some other no name brand. Either one they use though it always has that distinct look when too much drinking and partying occurs and the streets turn into a green sea of fluids mixed with chunks of despair. Not to say that I have never been there too. I have been known in the past to proclaim myself a wee bit o’ the Irish and partake in plenty of imbibing with my fellow lads and lasses! I’m sure those around me did observe the Irish rainbow being spewed forth out of my gullet when my belly could no longer handle the abuse on occassion. Oh look, there are me Lucky Charms I had for breakfast!
As usual, here is what we have to look forward to in NYC on March 17 –
We will observe frat boys projectile vomiting in the streets, in cabs, in alleyways, on stoops, in the bathrooms, in the actual bars, and basically anywhere there is a floor close by! Oh, you sexy lads, get on with your bad selves! Shit me I’m kiss faced!
We will observe many women dressed as trashy leprechauns, Irish lasses, and bar wenches (not that there is anything wrong with that, mind you). Many will fall down sloppily drunk. Many will be poured into cabs. Many will be sick and puking all the next day. Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!
We will observe some of the drunken masses getting into rounds of fisticuffs! All that green beer brings out the warrior in a select few who wish to challenge any chap with bare knuckle boxing that bumps into them, or accidently spills some of that fine green brew on their $10 KMart “Kiss me I’m Irish” t-shirt. Erin go bragh!
We will observe a bunch of drunken hookups over many green beers and whiskey shots! Oh, young drunk love! Tonsil hockey with complete strangers will turn into regrettable sex. The “Walk of Shame” will be so pronounced the following day as we view those stumbling home all raggedly looking with the same vomit stained St Patrick’s Day t-shirt or goofy green outfit on from the night before. Kiss me I’m Irish, or drunk, or whatever!
We will observe a few of our coworkers who normally don’t drink on a weekday, or at all really, come into the office sporting massive hangovers. Amateurs! It is kind of fun messing with them. Banging into their desks, making loud noises, and seeing them a putrid shade of green and ash. Irish today, shitface tonight, hungover tomorrow!
So, how many of you out there can relate with any of these five observations first hand?
Happy St Patrick’s Day to all! Enjoy but just don’t trip over a shamrock and hit your head on a blarney stone ya drunk bastids!