Usually if you admitted to anyone that you had seen little green men you would become an object of ridicule, if not institutionalized. There is one day each year where that is not the case though. Yes it is St Patricks day yet again. The only day of the year where admitting that you have seen them will be met with joyous, drunken shouts of ‘Leprechaun’.
The whole point of this holiday, as far as I can figure out, is to get so wasted that you do see little green men. You go out to a pub and drink as much beer (that seems to have the consistancy of mud and a taste to match) as you possibly can.
Each venue will have a dodgy band murdering well know songs. This is known as shamrock. Everybody dances the uncoordinated drunken dance, with arms around each other defying the law of gravity and holding each other up.
By the time you roll out of the pub you are hungry, and throwing reason out the door you get yourself a St Patricks kebab. That is the one with the fuzzy green meat. Following that you will find a nice piece of green grass to pass out on. For some reason the grass is now the same color as your face.
The one thing you need for tonight is a good Irish joke. Memorise this one if you don’t already have one.
A passer-by watched two Irishmen in a park. One was digging holes and the other was immediately filling them in again.
'Tell me, 'said the passer-by, 'What on earth are you doing?'
'Well, 'said the digger, 'Usually there are three of us. I dig, Fergal plants the tree and Sean fills in the hole.
Today Fergal is away unwell, but that doesn't mean Sean and I have to take the day off, does it?'
Happy St Patricks day everyone - You will see little green men tonight - to be sure, to be sure.