So Valentine’s Day may be all about love with lovey dovey hearts, red roses, and stuffed animals, but St. Patrick’s Day is quite the opposite. Much to my amazement, I have decided St. Patty’s Day is simply about getting laid. I am officially declaring “Mony, Mony” the theme song for March 17th. (We all know there was only one reason that song was popular and don’t tell me you aren’t chanting the unsung chorus to the song as we speak!)
Just think about it. There may be a few kind souls that still consider St. Pat’s Day a day to head on over to the church and say a little prayer for Saint Patrick and then make a heaping bowl of corned beef and cabbage to share with the family, but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that there’s a larger population who consider the day a reason to get their drunken schwerve on. Most common-folk celebrating the big holiday are more concerned with their choices for the evening than having some potato soup. And by choices, I mean they have to make decisions over whether they’ll be guzzling green ale, chugging Guiness, sipping the Irish whiskey, or tossing back Irish car bombs. But for most celebrators, it don’t matter what you’re drinkin’, it’s just about gettin’ hammered.
Of course, there are some fine friends that aren’t just about getting lit. Just like chocolate and peanut butter, drunk and horny seem to meld together well. And why wouldn’t that be the expectation? It’s not like anyone is unaware that the Kelly green M&M is the universal “doin’ it” candy. And there we have it: green is the color of M&M’s, money, and the Irish. It’s the only holiday where a little man in a green suit with orange hair pleading he’s a leprechaun singing, Come on, Eileen gets any action. As an elf, he’d be home alone by 9pm. It’s obviously the luck of the Irish that gets him some!
My other favorite thing to see is which guy at the bar “accidentally” forgot to wear green. Mmmm… he wasn’t trying to get pinched, now was he? And he certainly wasn’t thinking it would be a great pick-up tactic either. Oh no, that would never work, now would it? Except…IT DOES! OMG! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen the scenario play out.
“Hey sweetheart, that there Kiss me I’m Irish t-shirt sure is cute. How ‘bout I go ahead and get on with that?”
Baby-talks the clueless, long-haired, drunken bimbo wearing the shirt, “But where’s your green?”
To which he replies, “I must have forgotten it, but how ‘bout we make a deal? You can pinch me, and I’ll kiss you.”
“Okay.” Wide-eyed, plastered, insecure, dumb girl responds.
And don’t even get me started on all the euphemisms dedicated to the holiday!
Him: “Hey baby, why don’t you let me see those big ole clovers of yours?”
Her: “Uck! Get away from me before I kick you in your Blarney stones!”
Him: “How ‘bout you kiss my Blarney stones instead?”
Her: “Seriously? I will kick you in your lucky charms if you don’t get away from me right now!”
Him: “Oh, come on, baby, I promise if you touch the end of my rainbow, you’ll reach the gold.”
Her: “You are such a freak!”
Him: “In the sack! No doubt about it. Wait till you see the side of corned beef I’m packin’!”
And so it goes: another “Happy” St. Patrick’s Day set in motion. So go ahead, get out there and get your drunk on. I think I’ll stick with M&M’s.