Everything Else

Grinds My Gears: Drink A F’N Guinness

I’ve never made any secret of the fact that I loathe St. Patrick’s Day. There isn’t one aspect of it that I like. Yeah I know, I’m not Irish. But guess what? Unless you’re Mighty Mike D, then neither are you. I don’t give a flying fornication that your last name might be O’Ryan or Gallagher or McDuffy (or McClure I suppose, but he doesn’t claim to be Irish all that much). Unless your parents are off the boat, or maybe your grandparents, you’re fucking American. And there’s nothing wrong with being American (at least some parts of it).

You know what you get when a group of people insist on clinging to their vision of Irish heritage? You get a stinking hellhole like Boston. And the only thing they know of being Irish is wearing green, being fucking racist, and listening to The Dropkick Murphys. You want any part of that? They certainly couldn’t point out Cork on a map.

But whatever your feelings on that, St. Patrick’s Day is the biggest fucking amateur hour out there, aside from maybe New Year’s Eve (and at least on NYE most people are well-dressed). Everyone who shouldn’t be drinking suddenly feels like they should be drinking. Which means you get some dude in a backward baseball hat puking on the sidewalk while his friend Jen is screaming into my ear at the bar about how cute her and her friend are (they most certainly aren’t). All the while they’re spilling a Miller Lite on me.

And that’s the other fucking thing. Who decided it was legal that Miller Lite gets to sponsor St. Patrick’s Day? If you’re caught drinking a Miller Lite on St. Pat’s day, you should be hit several times with a nipped-out cat. Seriously, fuck you. No, really. FUCK YOU.

If you have to go out and drink and feel like you’re celebrating being Irish (not that anyone really should be celebrating being Irish, because their history isn’t exactly glorious. Ask any genuinely Irish person, they’ll tell you) or just celebrating with the Irish, drink a fucking Guinness. It’s delicious, it’s satisfying, it tastes wonderful, I don’t know what else there is.

“Ew, it’s dark and thick and it fills me up too quickly!” Then get fucked. You’re not a drinker and should turn in your card. If you can’t drink a Guinness then you’re not a drinker, plain and simple.

If you have to go the whiskey route, Jameson is perfectly acceptable, though I find Powers to be slightly better. If you’re seen with a Jim Beam, then I hope they launch you into space.

But mostly, stay inside. You’re not missing anything. Corn beef is delicious, but you shouldn’t be eating it only one day a year. And seeing as how that and the potato is the extent of Irish cuisine, that tells you pretty much everything you need to know about the Irish. Most of all, you don’t need an excuse to drink. I’m sure your life will suffice most every day. I know mine does.

Oh, and the best band out of Ireland is clearly Thin Lizzy. I don’t even know why this is up for debate.

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