Disclaimer: I love Irish people…really, I do.
I just want to let you know that I am not one to hate a day that glorifies getting trashed and making out with the bartender at McFadden’s. But I find some flaws with St. Paddy’s day, as I do with everything in life.
For those of you who aren’t a product of guidos like myself, what you do not know is that Italians have their own “St. Patrick’s Day”. It’s called St. Joseph’s Day and it takes place just two days after it’s Irish cousin. This means St. Joseph’s day is 2nd place. And this is how Italians deal with 2nd place: hate on 1st place for the rest of their natural born lives.
Today’s Guido lesson: St. Paddy’s day is ultimately ignored and then on the 19th we eat 20 zeppoli and wear red.
Before I share things I hate about March 17th, keep in mind that Ireland is the root of many good things, such as: Conan O’Brien, Patrick Dempsey, beer, Boondock Saints, Boston, Lucky Charms and Gerard Butler’s accent in P.S. I Love You.
Things I Hate About St. Paddy’s Day
Because I’m Italian
- The color green looks awful on me. Actually it looks awful on everyone. We’re not talking olive green or army green, but bright-ass shamrock green. The kind that should only be worn for Halloween or a team jersey. (Go Celtics!)
- Why is my beer green? Apparently bars think it’s cute to put food coloring in their drinks for good ol’ St. Paddy. I just wanted a Bud Light, but I got a fizzy concoction that screams ‘alligator pee’. And to add to my disappointment, I have an old Irish man with green teeth smiling at me across the way.
- I don’t want corned beef; I want ravioli. If I wanted boiled potatoes and meat that can function both as protein and a saltlick, I’d get in Doc’s Delorean and go back to the 1800’s.
- St. Patrick was British. You heard me. St. Patrick was abducted from Britain and held captive in Ireland. Just because his name is Patrick, America went all four-leaf-clover on the poor guy. You don’t see Hugh Laurie taking shots in a leprechaun suit.
- Nobody likes a redhead. On St. Patrick’s Day every gawky, freckled, redheaded guy thinks they’re God’s gift to women. These poor boys are filled with false hope and confidence for a full 24 hours. But on the 18th, that girl you’re hitting on will realize you look like Scut Farkus from A Christmas Story.
On a lighter note, be safe, enjoy your night and drink one for me! The blog posts have been scarce because I’ve been doing more stand-up rather than blogging. Forgive me!!!!
And Happy early St. Joseph’s Day to all my fine Italians! (please date me)