St. Patty’s Day, Bitches!

Seriously, I need this shirt.

I don’t know what you all do for St. Patty’s Day but in my household we take the holiday (yes, I said holiday. We book it off, bitch!) very seriously. I plan on starting the festivities around noon tomorrow by prepping an Irish meal while nipping on the Irish whiskey. The boyfriend and I will then eat said meal, accompanied with beer as opposed to wine, of course (I don’t go so far as to dye my beer green, unless I’ve consumed a little too much whiskey while making dinner). After we’ve eaten entirely too many carbs, we’ll watch Boondock Saints while drinking an Old Fashioned or three or four.  If you haven’t watched Boondock Saints yet, holy shit, get on that! It’s right up there with my other favourites like Snatch, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, and The Italian Job.

Tomorrow the festivities will continue. My boyfriend will don his green shirt that says Irish You Were Here (I have no clue who he Irishes was here but he looks hot in the shirt so I’ve never asked) and with one or two of his friends, he will leave for the pub at about 2:30 to ensure our group gets a table. They’ll be shitfaced by the time the rest of us arrive, anywhere from 4-8pm, and it will take us a while to catch up. We drink and chat and laugh and dance to a live band until about 2am and then taxi it home even if the pub is just around the corner from our house.

This is what we look like on Monday morning.

As I already mentioned, we book this shit off. This means the celebrations continue on Monday – albeit in a much more subdued manner because we cannot bounce back as easily as we could when were in our twenties. Of course, one or two people almost always end up crashing at our place after our night out so we take whomever is here out to brunch at an Irish pub not too far from our condo. We find that’s the simplest and most subtle way to usher their drunken asses out of our home.

With brunch complete, the bf and I usually go home and spend the rest of the day in bed. The mildness or severity of our hangovers will determine whether this is for sexy time or sleep time.

So, here are my St. Patrick’s day themed nails:

And I also have St. Patty’s Day shoes, the image of which I have painstakingly, if amateurishly doctored up in an effort to stress to you how fucking much I love this holiday.

So, St. Patrick’s Day is pretty awesome. I think we’ve established that. But guess what? St. Patty’s day also happens to be the boyfriend’s and my anniversary. And by anniversary, I mean we were best friends for years and years until one St. Patrick’s Day we got drunk enough to start making out like teenagers on the dance floor. We’ve been together ever since.

So on the eve of St. Patty’s Day weekend and our anniversary, let’s raise our glasses in a toast!

May the sound of happy music, and the lilt of Irish laughter, fill your heart with gladness, that stays forever after.

~

So much profanity. I should be ashamed of myself, really.