For the Love of St. Patrick

By staff writer Scott Goodyer

Does this sound familiar: spending an entire day at a bar where you’re drunk by noon, end up talking about life with your drunken professor/new best friend, then heading home to pleasure yourself over and over again to Paula Abdul’s “Rush Rush?” Yes, you remember; it’s St. Patrick’s day once again! I love this day for many reasons.

“The day is too close to finals”

That’s been the excuse I give my parents every year when I end up doing shitty on most of my finals. St. Paddy's honestly leaves me hammered a month later. In fact, I’m still so fucking retarded by that time, I write most of my exams in a wheelchair and nine times out of ten, I end up leaving the exam early because I shit my pants.

The Green Beer
It’s the only time of the year when I don’t get worried that my shit is the color green. (And I get worried A LOT!)

Making New Best Friends
You know how it is. Stumbling around the bar, you’re so hammered everyone’s your new best friend. Last year my new best friend was my calculus professor. We had a great time. He had already introduced an F to my grade and I was finally able to thank him by introducing my foot to his balls. That’s what best friends do right? (Oh and later that night, according to others, best friends also make out??)

Taking Advantage
It’s so easy to pick up the opposite sex when everyone is completely bombed. But you gotta be careful. Two years ago I thought I picked up a cutie when the next morning in bed I turned around and noticed The Predator asleep wearing nothing but MY lucky college sweater. I was stupid though. You think I would have clued in that night when we first got into bed and I asked for a blow job. All it did for the rest of the night was laugh in this fucked up tone repeating “Can I get a blow job? Can I get a blow job?”

Spending Time With the Family
This day is probably the only time I enjoy hanging out with my alcoholic father and mother. Because this time, unlike any other time of the year, everybody is drunk and nobody knows exactly who is holding the gun, who is naked and threatening to call the neighbors, and who announces again that “they want to get into stripping.”

Learning the Irish Culture
Every year while sitting around in some bar there’s always some old Irish seniors talking about how St. Patrick’s Day first came to be. These guys are so passionate about it you'd think a little green leprechaun was about to pop out of their belly any minute with a pot of Lucky Charms and a gallon of milk. (Gold prices have gone up recently.) The only insight I have into Irish culture is watching Colin Farrell's exploits on E!.

You’re welcome.