Día de San Patricio

It’s all sugar skulls and green beer on Saint Patrick’s Day.

“Me wee electric car is more Irish than you, you focking Gobshite!”
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On the real Saint Patrick’s Day (not the shite one put on by the focking Pope) Sarah and I went to see the Irish parade about Minneapolis. We then stopped in at Kieran’s, had a coupla pints and then brought some takeaway up to her flat. She was right knackered from flying back from fair Denver and all, but ’twas a good time nonetheless. I won’t say about the goings on after dinner, but nothing was broken that couldn’t be repaired with a shot of morphine and a sewing kit.

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Saint Paul out of Minneapolis!
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Leprechaun Cavalry: yeah, you’re pretty much fucked. (if you don’t understand that reference, I refer you to the internet in question)
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Roller Derby girls are better on skates
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Sarah is just always good
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Dance, ye leprechauns, lest I take yer pot o’ gold
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Mmm! Street caramel! I hate caramel. Caramel can go fuck itself.
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As this guy walked past we all broke into that traditional Irish folk song: “Oh, the mutant bears o’ Ireland / They’re cursed with arid throats / So give ‘em beers and whiskeys / And they’ll sing a lonesome note…” There’s more, but it’s too sad. I’m getting all teary eyed just now.
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Here’s to a united Ireland — or at least peace.
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What’s an Irishman wear under his kilt?
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A Scotswoman! My Scotswoman is a mile away just now, which is why I’m still up and writing. Also, she’s part Norwegian.

Sigh.

While researching this article, I found a site on irish slang: http://www.irishslang.net/

I approve.

Well, not really.

One Response to “Día de San Patricio ”

  1. The focking Pope may be a wee Nazi tosspot, but ye still had two Saint Pattie’s days out of the deal!

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