The Meaning Of Saint Patrick's Day

Saint Patrick's Day is when nonIrish people get drunk and imagine they're Irish. The other days are when I get drunk and imagine I'm not a poor sentimental Irishman. So, global readers, this is your holiday. The above video is a fitting introduction to Ireland's other-holy-communion and wholly-killer-contribution: whiskey. Remember to use the book Ulysses as a pillow when you sleep in an alley, so you can someday impress babes by saying, "I've spent many a night over a worn copy of Joyce trying to take some comfort in the depth and breadth of lit-er-a-ture."

I also recommend enjoying Bush Mills whiskey with two parts coffee, one tablespoon brown sugar and a dollop of heavy cream. When possible, drink it at an old sailor's bar with windows overlooking the ocean, the fog, the ships and the gulls. If you must imbibe at a trendy pub, this beverage still rocks. The whiskey will let you wax loose and poetic (at least in your own mind, which Buddha says is reality, whatever your unspiritual friends may think), and coffee will let you maintain the mental sharpness to pretend you're listening to that voluptuous woman or to say something intelligent to that guy who's pretending to listen.

Finally, whatever you do, don't forget this holiday's true meaning. Saint Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland, thus my family came to America, then my mother married a German who added beer to my list of vices and a porno last name to my sissy first name, so I became a shiftless and shameless travel writer. Yes, it's all about me. Should the alley behind the bar where you crash out appear to be unsacred ground with puddles of unholy water, consider adding one other book to your pillow stack, so that I too can impress the babes as a bestselling author.

P.S. - Friends don't let friends sing "I-rish I was in Dixie."