Happy St. Patrick’s Day you fookin’ Irish!
Drink and drink and drink and drink and fight!
Having a dram of Bushmills 1608 to bring St Patrick’s Day '07 to an appropriate close even as I type this.
I had my green beer last night and now my fingers are all green - so kiss me Blarney stone.
I had some corned beef last night. Boiled. :)
Corned beef makes me ill, but we did make some awesome Irish stew last night.
Sushi and taquitos.
I had fadge. I eat fadge every weekend with eggs and bacon, but usually on Sunday.
Well there’s an interesting wikipedia redirect…
I had soda bread! At my work we celebrated on Friday. First DST gets moved up, next we’re celebrating Saint Paddy’s on the 16th.
Yes, espcially if you consider eating some of the redirected Wikipedia’s fadge “every weekend with eggs and bacon, but usually on Sunday.”
So last night I almost got into a drunken brawl. With a drunk (not me). It was right out of the cantina scene in Star Wars.
We’re at a fairly quiet bar (not an Irish place). It’s me, my friend Jim who I’ve known for years, his wife, and our friend Beth who I’ve laso known for year. the girls are sitting at the bar, jim is behind them, and I’m to everyone’s right. Just so you can, you know, see the scene tactially. Bascially Jim and I are forming a wedge between the rest of the bar and the girls. So this drunk, grizzled guy to my right is chain smoking and yelling at the basketball game. He’s alone and obviously mad at something. He bumps me a few times (my back is to him) but I don’t say anything. Then he taps me on the back and I turn around.
Drunkie: Hey you, go get me a fuckin’ cigarette.
Me: What?
Drunkie: I don’t give a fuck!
Me: (feigning hard of hearing) I’m not sure I understand.
Drunkie: Do you have a cigarette?
Me: I don’t smoke, sorry.
Drunkie: Well, go fuckin’ get me one, I don’t give a fuck.
Me: That’s not my problem man.
Drunkie: Listen, you watch yourself, I just got out of the Fairfax County Prison, I been in there 20 years.
Me: Ok. (but thinking two things)
a) "You watch yourself, I’m wanted in 12 systems, and also thinking, I should have said, “I’ll be careful”, hoping Jim will go “This one’s not worth the trouble, come let me get you something”. and
b) I wonder if it was for stabbing someone in a bar
So maybe 2-3 minutes go by. I tell Jim to watch the guy behind me carefully and watch his hands. I carefully turn back to the conversation, a bit rattled and now cautious about getting a shiv in the back. Then he gets up to leave.
As he’s passing us: “It’s not fair, you guys with these beautiful women, bitches won’t give me the time of day. These FUCKING BITCHES!” (leaning in).
Jim and I saw this coming and were facing him while he’s getting up.
Jim: Hey man, watch it. There’s no need for that.
Drunkie: (unintelligible threat to Jim)
Drunkie puts down his gym bag thing and puffs up his chest. I stand up shoulder to shoulder with Jim and get in front of him a bit. People around us start to step back and look on.
Me: Why don’t you calm down and get out of here man. No one needs to fight tonight. (while trying to see who will get hurt in the background if this guy throw a punch).
Drunkie clenches his fists, I can SEE it coming. He must have been pretty drunk and thinking he’s clenching his fists and tightening up while we don’t notice. It’s as clear as a bell to anyone he’s about to throw a punch. I think he thinks he’s in the prison yard still.
I step forward a little more and whisper “That IS NOT a good idea, man. Calm down and leave.”
Pepper in throughout a dozen “I dont’ give a fucks”.
Enter bartender who tells the guy "no one needs to suffer tonight, and if someone’s going to suffer it will certainly be you, pointing out size differences and numerical advantage between Jim, me, and the guy. Guy leaves, scowling. Last thing I heard from him was “I’ll leave OF MY OWN ACCORD!”
Ah, happy St. Pat’s day ya drunks!
Great story, glad no one lost any teeth.
We had a kegger and a BBQ. I really don’t remember anything that happened after the Jamesons came out. Though I do vaguely remember making out with the toilet at some point. My eyes popped open at 3 am still dressed and in bed.
According to my GF I didn’t make it to 7pm. I was so busy feeding everyone else I forgot to eat. I love St. Paddy’s.
I’m glad that story didn’t end with him coming back to the bar with a gun and happily going back to prison for offing you.
Yeah, no shit. Tried to de-escalate as much as possible. the bartender thanked us for it. We were also very watchful on the way home.
Wow.
Anyway, fadge as I know it is potato bread, which is awesome. Even better than soda bread.
It completes the Sunday Ulster fry.
We, in my humble NY town, celebrated St. Patty’s day a week ago.
Yes, we are amazing like that.
When people asked why you were drinking green beer on the 10th of March, what did you tell them?
ElGuapos story is all everyone needs to know of St. Patty’s day. Everytime, same story.
Fuck you! I’m not in green.
I went to go see the Shins play a great sold out concert. There wasn’t much drinking for me during the night but what a great concert that was.
Forgive my ignorance here, but why are you guys (Scurvy and G Sides) calling it “St. Patty’s”?