Top of the mornin’ to ya! I’ve been day drinking! Well it is Friday, you know.
Some would say that it’s even later than that. But here in the place where this little thing called daylight comes from, what time is it?
Oh wait, I can’t actually tell if I’m awake or not.
St Paddys Day, Matey!
Ok, it is St. Patrick’s day and I’m down at the grocery store hoping to score some last minute corned beef. You see on St. Patrick’s day it is ancient Irish tradition to drink green colored beer, eat a bunch of nasty cabbage and corned beef and then shit and puke the acidic concoction into whatever toilet I’m nearest.
It’s exactly as Saint Patrick himself envisioned the future! The catch is, I’m not able to find any corned beef. None at all!
Attention dumb ass store employees: Where’s the beef?
Now we’re at a bit of a dilemma for me because I want some but it’s probably gone by now. Still, here I am on my own, day dreaming up ideas to get my own plate of tangy brisket cooked in cabbage and a big plate full of disgusting green farts. Even though this may be a long shot I’ve got to try to find one.
I look around and see a tiny little guy walking towards me wearing traditional baggy green pants, green vest and those fucking tall black boots they always wear these days. I don’t have a very good opinion of the culture behind that type of apparel so I make sure I put a firm scowl as they approach.
“Can I help ya?” He says cockily looking down his snooty nose.
“Yes,” I snap back holding my ground. “I need some corn beef and cabbage.”
He looks me over curiously like he might consider trying to shoot me if he knows that bullets can kill me.
“There’s no more corned beef.” he says haughtily tossing his wispy bangs over his shoulder.
“None left at all!”
The smug smirk creeps across his face like melted butter and I finally lose control of myself. Grabbing him by the shoulder, I shove him hard into the icy tiled floor. The sound of his body hitting the floor dead was enough for me so I went home.
Mom saves the day
My mom sent me a text saying that Kroger had one in the back and she got it and it’s cooking. By the time I pull into the driveway at home someone has opened my door for me and it’s my mom. She carries me inside like my hero. I am 44 years old but she still loves me.
We get inside and there’s this leprechaun looking fucker sitting at the table.
“Mom, who the hell is that?” I ask.
“Oh, that’s your new step-dad. ” she says.
“BULLSHIT!” I said.
The leprechaun just sat there, chewing on pieces of corned beef. My corned beef. In fact he didn’t say anything, just nodded his head. I was losing my mind at this point, lost all sense of reality and wanted to yell out some ridiculous complaint but then the leprechaun finished all the beef. I was mortified. How could someone do that?! What kind of sick fuck eats all of his step-son’s corned beef?
“YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD!” I screamed as I went to my room.
It was a short walk since we all shared the same efficiency apartment since the inflation hit. This St. Patrick’s day was the worst one I’ve ever had. Some might say I should move out but they don’t see all the nice things I do for my mom. I also make her change my man diaper.