St. Patrick’s Day has come and gone and try as I might I really don’t care. What is it with people who go through their lives looking for a reason to get drunk? That’s a rhetorical question. I know the answer.
Today’s unsolicited advice isn’t for all of you but it is for some of you.
I spent my St. Patrick’s Day at a party with friends where nobody got drunk because we all drink in moderation. We also celebrated a birthday a few days early with a delicious home-made chocolate cake. We also had a short discussion about important topics such as why kids these days are so stupid and how Obama doesn’t have any responsibility for the war in Afghanistan.
Kids today are really stupid. So say all the old people. You know, the old people who raised those kids and taught them in public schools and colleges. Listening to two old people talk about how dumb kids are makes me want to ask them “Don’t you think you’re responsible for any of this?”
But then again responsibility is overrated.
As I learned last night Obama, in spite of being the commander-in-chief of the armed forces of the United States of America and the single most powerful human on the planet Earth, has no responsibility for the war in Afghanistan. The American military just stayed in Afghanistan of their own choice. Continuing to kill people without Obama’s permission and there’s nothing he can do about it. As for those drones that kill people who are going to weddings, Obama has no responsibility for those either. Skynet is responsible for that.
Just as Obama is not responsible for the war – just as old people are not responsible for how stupid their children are – on St. Patrick’s Day neither are you responsible for your behaviour.
It’s a day when you can go out to bars, drink like a fucking idiot and show the world how incredibly stupid you are thanks to the inability of your parents to raise a child with more than three functioning brain cells.
Enough of my bitching.
Babymetal. Because I can.
Let’s get to some actual advice that you didn’t ask for.
Celebrating St. Patrick’s Day in a responsible way.
1. Don’t wear stupid green outfits or hats in public.
Attention whoring is not attractive. I know you want people to notice you but the more effort you put into needing to be noticed by other people the more you telegraph your insecurities.
2. Learn to drink in moderation.
I understand that excessive drinking only kills the week brain cells. And I understand that you’re not using most your brain cells anyway. I don’t want you to drink in moderation for your benefit. I’m a firm believer in natural selection and the sooner your liver gives out that’s the sooner your DNA is removed from the gene pool.
I want you to drink in moderation for my benefit. When I go trail running the morning after St. Patrick’s Day and I’m returning via my usual detoured through Old Town I don’t want to have to step in your vomit.
3. Celebrate at home.
I’m honestly not sure what anyone is celebrating on St. Patrick’s Day or why this is a holiday. My suspicion is that it’s an excuse to get drunk. We live in a society where, for the most part, everyone is so miserable that they will take any excuse to get drunk to forget their lives aren’t worth living. A culture where “Netflix” and “party” are verbs isn’t too far from decline. And you should Enjoy The Decline.
But I digress.
You should stay home on St. Patrick’s Day to do your drinking. There are multiple benefits:
- If you are selective about your guest list you don’t have to deal with annoying people. Be sure you don’t invite me ’cause I’ll call you on your bullshit.
- The booze is cheaper.
- The service is faster. Not as cute as the waitresses at Lucky Joe’s, but faster.
- You don’t have to worry about being thrown out at closing time. Nor do your guests ’cause you’re gonna let ’em sleep over if they need to.
- Therefore you and your guests don’t have to worry about getting a DUI and contributing large sums of money to the boys in blue and the rehab industrial complex.
- If you want to smoke a cigarette or an e-cigarette you can do so without some whiny bitch telling you that you’re only 19 1/2 feet away from the door and you need to move.