That’s right. You thought some bogus tradition allowed you to pinch me and I wouldn’t mind? As if an official part of celebrating Irish culture was to be painfully annoying, and it was expected for me to turn the other cheek? Think again, buddy. Nobody pinches this bottom and gets away with it. You just opened up a calendar of pain, and your one special day just ended. Now I hope you’re ready for 364 days of payback. This is an official warning: Holidays Just Got Real.
You thought you had the right to pinch me because I didn’t wear green. As if your shamrock shaped sunglasses and Styrofoam leprechaun hat put you in a position to remind me! As if listening to Irish punk music wasn’t enough! As if I didn’t dress myself! I didn’t wear green for the same reason I didn’t vomit all over myself before lunch. Different people celebrate differently, but you just acted like a Higher Power came from the heavens to guide your righteous hand towards my butt. Well I can play that game too, but my Holiday God is a vengeful God.
I won’t go into full explanations, but here are some April teasers. If you think you can stroll through Arbor Day scot-free, I got news for you. Five trees planted by sunrise or oops, looks like someone’s due for a double wet willy every time they use the restroom. Forgot to file your taxes through Tax Slayer? Hope you don’t mind me sitting beside you all day finger drumming Dave Mathew’s Band single “Satellite” against the table. Oh, is that annoying as hell? Sorry, rules are rules. Don’t celebrate Easter? It is said that twelve pizzas are to be delivered to the house of the unbelievers.
So when you’re going crazy on Flag Day trying to figure out what will make me stop quoting lines from The Mask, I want you to remember this. I want you to have a vivid image of the moment you put yourself on my shit list. Swirling in the insanity of Cuban Pete, King of the Rumba Beat, you will cry and promise you will never pinch again, but I will just laugh. Because if one thing must go on, it's the P-A-R-T-Why? Because I gotta.
I was betrayed by the bernio bros, the cougars, and this guy from back page I hired to keep me from jumping out a window at the DNC.
TOTAL WRECK - crazy-eyed hound is covered in cobwebs, has a vespiary on back, graffiti on side and savage thirst for boat fuel. Frankly, I'm in over my head. He's in room 115 at Motel 6, yours free. 555-2851
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