Kissing the Blarney Stone is on my list of things to do before I keel off. I’ve heard it’s a tad unnerving. I have, however, been known to be brave if the act involves festivity. Until then, this will have to do …
Any big plans? I’m planning to stay in with my corned beef and cabbage, red potatoes and soda bread. Not that being asked if I’m pregnant or being accosted by some crazed drunk man doesn’t sound fun–but a nice, quiet evening sounds better. I think I’ll even forgo the Guinness in favor of Rootbeer. They’re both dark and frothy; certainly only my gag reflex will be able to tell the difference.
To those who just left in disgust, I hope you’ll come back; to those who stick around despite the fact that I cannot hold my dark ruby stout, thank you.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, my friends!