So what the fuck could we possibly hate about that? It sounds like one hell of a debaucherous time. And it usually is. I'm not here to say “St. Pat's is gay and all who engage in its merriment follow suit.” I for one, like any holiday/get-together that puts a bottle in my hand (funerals included), but this list has never been done, and considering how vast the Internet is, I only have a small window to complain and air all grievances before someone beats me to it. So here goes: 10 things we hate about St. Patrick's Day.
1. Not a Federal Holiday
St. Pat never did a goddamn thing for America, and I accept that. But I also happen to like not going to work. Maybe St. Pat's is not on the scale of Christmas but if we can't get it to be federal holiday, it at least needs to be made into a segregated one for those who it effects (or can pretend it effects). Like if the Jews can miss work to observe whatever the fuck they are observing when they starve themselves for an entire day, then Irish Catholics (and people who say, “My last name is Italian but my mother's side of the family is Irish as shit”) should be awarded the same privileges.
2. Idiotic T-shirts/ Celtics Shirts/Jerseys
The amount of fucking Celtics regalia worn on St. Pat's is nauseating. You know you're not a fan, but like half of the other idiots wearing this shit, you just didn't have a green shirt and you needed one to fit in. And really, what other choice did you have? This was literally your best option because wearing a graphic tee that says “Kiss Me I'm Irish” is worse than a bullet flying up your dickhole.
3. Abuse of Little People
Come on, people. Have a shred of decency and stop renting them for your parties. I know they are profiting, but don't you think they would rather have their dignity than make a dollar from some prick like you? If right about now you're thinking that this is a poor argument, you would be right. But while I have your attention, please stop renting clowns in general. They're horrifying.
4. The Food
Soda Bread, Blood Pudding, Corned Beef, Cabbage…all words that somehow fit naturally, and can be used interchangeably, when one is trying to describe a disgusting vagina. Ex: “I fucked Jenny while her crotch was on the skids last night. When I pulled my dick out out of that corned beef there was blood pudding… everywhere.” Keep that thought close while you eat this garbage tomorrow.
5. Green Beer
Is absolutely unnecessary.
6. The Pageantry
I thoroughly abhor parades so this qualm isn't just St. Pat's specifically. They are the most purposeless, uninteresting, piles of human excrement our country has to offer. Someone please explain to me what good they do?
7. Cover Charge to Shitty Pubs
Instead of being grateful on the one day that they have a crowd, all the Murphy's, Kelly's, Connelly's, McHale's, et al, are suddenly charging at the door. If I'm paying admission to get in, the whole establishment has just become my urinal.
8. Excessive Playing of House of Pain, Dropkick Murphys, and U2
Two thirds of the above aren't even from Ireland. There aren't many great choices coming out of Ireland, sure, but what's a brother got to do to kick it to some Sinéad O'Connor? While I'm at it I'll throw the Cranberries into the rotation.
9. Tough Guys
The Irish are touted as violent drunks, I get it, but St. Pat's has got to be the biggest day of the year for beer muscles. It can be annoying if you are one of those pussies that doesn't go out looking to spar. Why so on edge, fellas? Tiny dick syndrome got ya down?
10. Tattoo Show-offs
This is the only day of the year that your shamrock/leprechaun tattoo is only 99% gay. Quit pulling up your sleeve to show everyone just how Irish you are. On second thought, keep showing it to all the girls; one less douchebag the rest of us have to contend with.
J. Camm is the Managing Editor of BroBible. He is a graduate of the University of Miami thanks mostly in part to a world-class short-term memory. When not writing drivel on the Internet, J.Camm enjoys golf and the inexplicable satisfaction that comes with forgetting a person's name the exact instant he meets them.