Here's a blog because NOBODY else has one!


Build a holiday around something other than religion, presents, or age and this is what you get. All you guys who smirk at Valentine’s Day being a made up holiday crafted by florists and greeting card sellers, consider: you ever end up in jail over your innocent efforts to observe the day?

Okay, don’t answer that. Let’s make with the purging of guilt:

I’m sorry that when you said you wanted a Guinness, I jumped up and down for twenty-three hours on a pogo stick while perched on the fence over the lion exhibit at the zoo during feeding time with a duck on my head and wearing a tutu made of sirloin. On the upside, the duck is fine (he sends his regards) and woohoo! WORLD RECORD, BABY! …sorry, you’re still thirsty though.

I’m sorry that when I met your friend Pat, I couldn’t stop saying, “Hey, there’s St. Patrick!” over and over again until he got fed up and stormed out. But, really, how was I to know that slamming the door so hard would make that huge picture fall off the wall and hit you? That jagged scar is hardly noticeable.

I’m sorry that I suggested celebrating with a costume party. On a related note, I’m sorry that shamrocks are a lot smaller than fig leafs.

I’m sorry that I called your mom a leprechaun. In my defense, she looks a lot like that guy on the Lucky Charms box.

I’m sorry I spent the whole evening asking your sister’s friends if they wanted to “find me pot of gold.”

I’m sorry that when we went to reptile exhibit last weekend, I kept loudly pretending to call Ireland and asking them if they could send St. Patrick to take the snakes BACK. I now realize that after forty-five minutes, sometimes jokes wear thin. Those snakes were creepy though, man.

I’m sorry I snuck into your bedroom closet and dyed all your shirts green. I now realize that practical jokes also require a thorough thinking through before execution.

On a related note, I’m sure your cat’s green fur will grow out with few, if any, ill effects.

I’m sorry that beer vessels don’t come in large sizes.

I’m sorry that pinching someone if they don’t wear green doesn’t also extend to pinching for other offenses: cutting you off in traffic, using a cell phone in a doltish manner, creating and broadcasting reality television.

I’m sorry that back in 2006, “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” wasn’t a more successful TV show, which has nothing to do with St. Patrick’s Day. But I’m sorry about it nonetheless.

I’m sorry there are no St. Patrick’s Day carols. Sitting around my St. Patrick Tree and sipping St. Pat’s Nog and eating shamrock cookies just seem like empty gestures without music.

I’m sorry that when I get a shamrock shake at McDonalds, the counter person doesn’t hand it to me and say, “Top o’ the morning to you!” and do an Irish jig. On the upside, I am happy if the person doesn’t spit in it.

In case you celebrated too…eagerly…I’ll just whisper <Happy St. Patrick’s Day!>


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