ndspinelli said...
The best St. Pat's Days were when we lived in Chicago. The parade[noon] would be the unofficial end of the work day. Now, they always hold them on Saturday. My very temperate drinking Eyetalan father, would love to come to visit w/ my very Irish mother. It was one of the few times I would ever see him get drunk.
I always get maudlin on Paddy's Day. I go down to the firehouse and have a few pints with the guys and my Irish side is happy and my Irish eyes are smilin' But then my Italian side gets all riled up and I want to call people to tell them off. This year I tried to call Ralph on the big white telephone. But he never answers. The fuck.
7 comments:
Like spinelli, I have no memories of St. Paddy's Day.
Just plenty of memories of St. Paddy's Nights like this one.
Erin Go Blooooorp!
Yodelling in the canyon. Well..this is one version. The other would be pornographic.
You know, maybe he just dropped a contact lens, or a glass eye in the toilet bowl. It might not be as bad as you are projecting it, you projecter you!
Well on the bright side that was the first time he met Althouse as she was staring up at him.
Well floating up at him to be precise. Just sayn'
maybe he just dropped a contact lens, or a glass eye in the toilet bowl
Or it could be his teeth. Many a slip 'tween the bowl and the lip.
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