I used to love St Patrick's Day. I mean, what's not to love? You basically take the day off and drink beer while listening to the Pogue's "Dirty Old Town" about 700 times. With luck you don't get thrown up on by anyone with a green boa wrapped around them. When I worked at radio stations, we would always have some kind of flighty promotion geared around selling whatever beer brand we were shilling. Here's the game plan. I would stand around and drink a few of whatever the brand of the moment was at whatever bar we had decided to create the party at that particular day. I might hand out some blinky buttons. I'd avoid being punched in the head. Not a bad way to make a living, no?
My St Pat's Day this year? I ate a dodgy turkey sandwich at my desk while trying to figure out what to charge for a "Supernanny" spot next August. After I weathered the gastrointestinal crisis of the sandwich, I then had to drive through the tattered remains of the Cleveland St Patrick's Day Parade to drop off tickets at the Quicken Loans Arena. Mook guys in green t shirts yelled, "CLEVELAND!" for no discernible reason while their buddies blew into long green plastic air horns with a mighty "whaaaaaaaahhhh". A girl with green hair puked in the gutter while three guys yelled "Fuck Yeahhhh!!!!". These were not my people.
I weaved my way through drunken drivers struggling out of parade traffic and got back to 30th and Euclid, aka The Hood. Where I work is such a great neighborhood that we have a security guard watch us walk the one block from the barbed wire rimmed parking lot to get to the other security guard that greets us at the security locked double door. If you want to buy crack? Great place to work! If you want to get something to eat within walking distance? Not so good.
I stepped across the curb to walk towards the front door. Standing in my way, like an insurmountable obstacle, was a long soot encrusted used condom. It hit me like a ton of bricks. While everyone else I knew was drinking plastic cups of beer and trying to avoid being punched in the head, I was stepping over a used condom in the midst of horrifying urban blight. That crinkled up condom, like a dead snake, would now represent St Patrick's Day 2010.
Erin Go Bragh Motherfuckers.
Random Notes: There will be cobwebs for many amateurs tomorrow morning. The real men step up tomorrow for a four day orgy of drinking and gambling known as the NCAA Basketball Tournament Opening Weekend. Krusty has broken down the games tomorrow and likes Old Dominion +2.5, BYU -5, St Mary's +2.5, and Vandy -3. Frankly, Krusty doesn't know what the hell he is talking about. He will openly admit this if you really press him. However, when those pussies at work sweat it out on their $5 entry fee brackets, it's nice to have some real scratch down on the games. That's why I am also tossing in on Old Dominion +2.5 and Vandy -3. A key for you to know is that I may know even less than Krusty. Still, I will say things like "Old Dominion's senior guard play makes them a tough out in this tournament." I will say this with such conviction, people will nod knowingly in my general direction. This should be enough for you to take our picks as gospel. Win up!
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