I'm pretty clueless on St. Patrick's Day - I assume it celebrates snakes slithering out of Lou Holtz's anus. But I could be way off on that. He'd probably enjoy it though - the freak with the lisp - Lou Holtz. And please remember one of the most important things about Lou Holtz - when he was at Minnesota, he was 0-2 against Earle Bruce.
I never quite understood the phrase "the luck of the Irish" - aren't they one of the most unlucky groups of people in the history of the world? What with the famine, the English occupation, and that lord of the dance guy - how could they be classified as lucky?
The best thing about Ireland is the Guiness. Other than that, they do have U2 and Sinead O'Connor - so that's something I guess. And Car Bombs - speaking of which, the over/under on the # of Car Bombs consumed at Get Bent Lounge tonight is 75 - and that's only counting the ones that Andy orders. When that kid puts his hand up high, points his index finger, and starts with the head counting - watch out. I love the kid, believe me. And if Mike Hupp, Ross, and Josh show up - it's over. Not to mention Horse Face. If she's not Irish, she should be.
Of course, the Irish themselves have had no luck at all where it really matters - playing football against TOSU. When the Irish played in Columbus in 1995 and the Buckeyes won 45-26, I was in the BW-3 at N High and Woodruff after the game - dead drunk. And there were dozens of very nice Irish fans in there. They were being very cordial and friendly. So, what I did is started walking around the bar screaming "Fuck the Pope" - at the top of my lungs for like an hour. I enjoyed that immensely. The next year TOSU won again 29-16 in the farmlands of Indiana and it was never close. My favorite game though took place in Arizona on Jan 2, 2006. TOSU gained 618 yards and crucified Charlie Weis, Brady Quinn, and the Pope himself. Troy Fucking Smith. TROY FUCKING SMITH - #10. It makes me cry just to think of him. And if you know me at all, you know I am not exaggerating.
This bar is pretty empty for 2:30 on St Patrick's Day - they are playing the Jimmy Eats World - so that's something at least.
I was back at that place on W Market Saturday watching hoops and minding my own business, trying to monitor 3 games at once and that same bartender was in there again - the one who wears sleeveless t-shirts to accentuate her otherworldly breasts. Except she wasn't working, she was in there drinking, pulling for the Heels. And she stumbles over to me at some point and says something like "Why don't you come in here much any longer? What happened to you?" And I really didn't have an answer to that. So I said "Your breasts scare me." And she said, as she lifted her sleeveless t-shirt and undid her bra clasp thingy "These?" And I said "Well, that's about right. Yes." She said "Go ahead - fondle them a while - they won't bite." And I had to decline the offer - I just said "No thanks, I'm good. Those overly pronounced blue veins running everywhere aren't really my thing." So, she slapped me, but not with her hand. And I just laughed and laughed as her blue vein riddled tits smacked all over my cheeks, chin, and forehead. It's no wonder the pool tables in that place look haphazardly decorated with ejaculate stains.
Geilfuss had a very interesting post on his blog yesterday about the March Madness and in it he mentions a certain young pup named Quigley. And Quigley is famous for many things - fruitlessly chasing squirrels and preening for the babes chiefly among them. But, also Quigley is a genius at doing the retarded office pool bracket thing. I don't mess with it personally, but Quigley will. He's way nicer than I am - way nicer. And he is deep in thought right now on his picks and promises that he will fill out his brackets tomorrow. I will post them then and my advice (even though I don't give advice) is to wait to enter your pool until you see Quigley's picks. I can't reveal his secrets though. No dice there. Hell, I don't understand his methods myself, to be honest. The Quigley Dog. The Fucking Quigley Dog. He is the absolute best. I love the guy. I really do - more than life itself. Way more.
I've had several complaints from newer readers of this blog about all the inside nicknames used and random stream of consciousness and I am not gonna reveal any secrets, but I get where folks are coming from. This blog is getting way more traffic than I ever anticipated - people are telling their friends I guess. I have no idea. But one email I got compared my writing style to that Irish guy who wrote Ulysses. And I'm functionally illiterate (obviously), so I have no idea if it's accurate or not. But I do know this - I saw that movie The Dead and I must say, it was pretty damn interesting.
The best U2 album is Achtung Baby. And as brilliant as Joshua Tree is, Achtung Baby is better. And I will die arguing that point. Now, the best U2 song is on Joshua Tree - One Tree Hill - of course. But overall, Achtung Baby. Fucking Achtung Baby.
I was in that same BW-3 mentioned above one time in December 1996 and I was waiting to meet this guy I hadn't seen in a little over 26 years. And I was dead drunk. And this guy wonders in about 9:30 or so I guess. And the whole experience was quite a letdown that night. He didn't drink (he claimed he was a recovering alcoholic) and was wearing a hideous trench coat. And he smoked cheap cigarettes to boot. So, I really didn't know what to say to the guy. I probably must have come across as an asshole - in fact he told my mother I came across as an asshole afterword. Anyway, the whole thing was a bust. I only saw the guy 2 more times before he died. And I did actually learn something from the whole experience (which is rare) and it is this: If you father a kid, don't wait until he's 26 to get in touch with him. That's not gonna be good for anybody. Trust me on that.
Everyone can see what's going on
They laugh cause they know they're untouchable
Not because what I said I was wrong
Whatever it may bring
I will live by my own policies
I will sleep with a clear conscience
I will sleep in peace
Maybe it sounds mean
But I really don't think so
You asked for the truth and I told you
Through their own words
They will be exposed
They've got a severe case of
The emperor's new clothes
TBFH
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