(saint pat)

i’m like so irish i can’t even tell you if i have any other heritage in me.

they say it’s impossible to be 100% anything, which is of course sort of true if you consider that we’re all probably descended from monkeys who all descended from the same zygote or something.

depending on your take on things, of course.

but those of us in the sorta-united states of america really don’t have much claim to pure heritage even beyond the monkey argument because this is supposedly one big melting pot, even though i’ve never kissed an asian girl and take that as proof negative on the melting pot theory.

nonetheless i’m pure irish, for an intensive purposes, and intents and purposes, and the like.  i’m like a tall leprechaun.

and chicago, as i know you know, doesn’t f*ck around when saint patrick’s day rolls into town, with its inevitably sunny weather and 24 hour bar scene.

i bet you didn’t know it’s always nice here on st. patty’s.  always.  the sun shines on the irish.

on saturday we celebrated, and this time in a bar with a beer pong table set up, which really sums up my day.  i got there early, had a few guinnesses (guinni?) and got on the table.  four hours later i got off the table, having finally lost after braden and i proved nearly unbeatable, and literally went home.

actually i take that back…we stopped for some sushi on the way home at my favorite hole in the wall, aki sushi, and munched.  i had some sake, and we flirted with the waitress, who i think might be into braden.

speaking of asian girls.

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