March 17th

It is that time of year again? No it's not the sale at the Shoe Carnival, the Shoe Carnival!!! It's the one day of the year that I proudly call, "My holiday." It's St. Patrick's Day Motha' Fucka's. Granted, I'm not a hundred percent Irish but the genes are in me; the reddish hair, the love of a fine stout, the desire to eat corn beef and cabbage and last but not least...the Irish Curse. This is the one day that everyone is a little Irish or gets a little in them, if you know what I mean. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about.

For some reason this is the one holiday that I truly enjoy. There is no stress about what to wear, where to go, who to hang out with. All I care about is drinking me a 40oz of Mickey's, a pint of Guinness and having some Corn Beef. It's very simple.

This is my real version of Thanksgiving. I really do sit and look back at the things, people, places that I'm grateful for. It's the day that makes me appreciate where I've come from, who my family is, why it's so wonderful to get up and feel the sun on my face. Don't get me wrong, it's not like this is the one day out of the year that I do this, but it's just multiplied by 10.

So enjoy your St. Patrick's Day weekend (even if your town celebrated it last week) and don't forget to fuck, I mean kiss the Irish. We are lonely, slightly delusional but always in need of some P.D.A.



Danny Boy

Peckerwood, peckerwood, tell me your tale
Please do explain why your skin's so pale
And you're so funky, now how can that be
Like a bird in a tree on the TLP
It's the Irish intellect, no one disrespected
My shit'll get hectic real quick
This is the House Of Pain (pain)
And pain is one thing we're not
Cause we know we've got
Style and fashion, smoke some hash and
I'm smackin' up girls like cars were crashin'
Danny Boy, Danny Boy, the pipes are callin'
Thought you was a winner, ya was, now you're all in
That's right, damn skimpy, ya can't get with me
I run the whole track and leave ya three laps back
Chop seuy don't do me no good
I gotta have corn beef and cabbage, if I wanna manage
I never eat pig, but I'll fuck up a potato
I'm not a dago, but pasta's all that
My pockets stay phat, so step the fuck back
You wanna move on me, you better bring an army
I rip shit daily, ask my man Tom Baily
I'm rockin' the clock like if I was Bill Hailey
I'm cockin' my glock, and I got my shileighly
So watch your lady, because I'm

(Danny Boy!) Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) You know it's Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) 'S Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) You know it's Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) 'S Danny Boy
(Danny Boy!) You know it's Danny Boy

(Da ney Boy, Da Da ney Boy)
Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside