I’m not Irish but wish I were. I could use a free pass to drink beer for breakfast and wine in church. Also? Freckles are cute. Need more reasons to love Ireland? You’re welcome…
1) Green beer. I wouldn’t touch this shit with a 10 foot pole but everyone else looks so festive drinking it, and can count each pint glass as a full serving of vegetables. I may add some to my next batch of meatloaf.
2) Limericks. I love rhyming. Here’s one for ya’, from me. I wanted to put either the word vagina or goatee in it, but couldn’t figure that shit out so…
There once was a mom from LA
Who wrote crappy poems all day.
Before long lack of rain
Began shrinking her brain
So she drank to find good shit to say.
3) Freckles. You already know I think they’re cute, but for us creative types, freckles also provide hours of entertainment. Waiting for a pool table? Play connect the dots on your Irish buddy’s forehead. Bored of darts? Pull down your pants, Reilly McIrish, those ass moles make for an arduous drunk target. In a springtime slump? Throw your freckled friend on a lawn chair and watch him turn pink. I’m an endless fountain of creativity here, folks.
4) Gold. I tried to tell my husband that even though I’m not Irish he’s still welcome uphold the tradition of giving each other ME golden treasure on March 17th. Did I just make that tradition up? Maybe. Still, I bought myself a golden manicure and waited in the driveway for the gold Mercedes I knew he’d be having delivered, but they mixed up the address and accidentally shipped it to Ryan Lochte. I told him he could keep it as long as he lets me borrow his American flag grill every 4th of July, and he said yes. Sucka’.
Gotta’ love a patriot.
5) Kissing. I had such witty banter to fill this spot here, but the above photo of the teenager with rocks in his mouth is making me cringe. He’s Irish himself, so if any of you eligible cuties out there drunkenly locked lips with his grill yesterday please do tell if it hurt as much as I imagine it should.
6) Shamrocks. When I was a kid I used to comb through clover patches for hours, convinced that if I believed I could find a four leaf clover then I would. I was five and a dreamer and now I know it’s a one in ten thousand chance and f’d if I’ve got time for stuff like that. If you’ve ever found one please don’t tell me or I might not be able to resist the urge to rub my face on your body for good luck, or just go straight to the source and steal your shamrock right out of its glass case. Plus I’m pretty sure I could buy one on eBay for two dollars, so don’t be too impressed with yourself.
7) Leprechauns. Spelling that word is as difficult as tracking one of those little suckers down. But if you do, you will be richly rewarded with pots of money and probably some secret elf powers. Which you will immediately transfer to me. I’ll do good with it, promise.
I kicked that leprechaun’s ass and all I have to show for it are these gold fingernails.
8) Catholicism. Sit, stand, chant, sit, pray, sing, stand, sit, stand, DRINK! Now that’s religion I can get behind.
9) The harp. WTF? Who put this shit here? I’m all hopped up on popular culture and folklore, yo, no time for national instruments.
10) Lucky Charms. That’s more like it! I can tell you with complete confidence that this is a cereal, and delicious all days of the year, not just March 17th. Perhaps the best thing the Irish ever gave us, this breakfast treat is neither Irish nor a complete breakfast, but we’re American and don’t give a hoot about pesky details like that. Anything to make a buck, huh General Mills?!
Now that you are all aware of my impressive wisdom about all things Irish, I dare you add something to the list I don’t know. It’s not actually possible, but I challenge you to try. This is a fun game because I’ll always be right.
Happy Monday, peeps!
Everybody’s gotta pick on the redheads……
Hmmmm…or dye our hair to be just like ’em…
Shamrock Shakes. Enough said.
You say shake, I think Harlem. Damned YouTube.
Shamrock Harlem Shakes. Sounds like something only good for St. Patrick’s Day. Glad that is over.
Sounds heavily alcoholic. I’m in!
Being red haired and freckled is not all it’s cracked up to be. Either is the curly, curly hair I was cursed with! I have always dreamed of a deep tan and straight blond hair. But then I guess my last name wouldn’t start with Mc…. I love being Irish but I guess I want to look Swedish. Go figure!
Hahah, Ms. Cranky, the grass is just always greener, isn’t it! I’m a bottle redhead 😉
The Irish potato is not really Irish nor is its origin any where near Ireland. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
OH! Thug mé faoi deara ach an tattoo níos mó. Lovely bhfuil sé.
Way to speak in code! And thanks 🙂
So you can read it? Wonderful. 😉
Good one…..I am smiling with my straight red hair, naturally brown 😉
Ditto!
I’m Fly-Rish! Half Flipino Half Irish!
I’m never calling you anything but Fly-rish ever ever ever again 🙂
I about peed my pants reading this!!! Love the part about the freckles & the leprechaun in particular:). I think you should consider standup as your next career move!
Kevin says I’m better at writing than in person….should I be offended by that?!!
no dye no lie red hair everywhere
you asked
Mmmmmm, yummy image