I was gonna post something about imbeciles with guns and the brain-dead bumper-sticker arguments they swear by but then it hit me — why not drink yourself into giggling bliss and just let the New Year cruise into port on smooth easy seas?
So half a dozen Jack Daniels later, here’s all I got:
God bless the Irish, with whose blood I share nary a single drop, but whose courage and souls I celebrate. Like the Eye-Ties, Poles, and Ruskies, they can also drink my lame ass under the table. Guido, who is but half Eye-Tie, has a trace of every goddam western European nation and nation in the lesser half, including Gaelic, which might explain her fondness for Tullamore Dew. (It does not explain her taste for me.)
A wise Irish priest once told me that Irish Diplomacy is the art of telling a man to go to hell in such a way that he looks forward to the journey. He also told me Never wrestle with a pig — you can’t win, you get all covered in shit, and besides — the pig likes it.
Heh. There was a lot more, too. Some was more Biblical, but not as insightful.
This blog may be inactive until 2013 — or not — but in case it is, Happy New Year, everybody, and thanks for all your visits, comments, and emails without which I’d curl up and die like a slug in the sunlight.