Ahh, St. Patrick's Day. Happy St. Patrick's Day. The one day of the year when all Irish people wear green and get drunk. The only day. Just one a year. Happy St. Patrick's Day to all my Irish friends and family, to all my alcoholic friends and family, and to all my Irish alcoholic friends. So English, Welsh and Scottish people, what will you be doing on St. Patrick's day? Oh, that's nice. What were you doing on St. George's, David's and Andrew's Days? No, me neither. Americans? How about you? What were you doing on whatever your National Saint's day might be... St. Innocent of Alaska, or Joseph, or ... Samuel Colt?
OK, I think that is all of the lazy stereotypes and unfunny crap jokes I'm contractually obliged to make today. For me St. Patrick's Day will combine elements of those two native-born Irish Saints, Cóemgen of Glendalough (Caoimhín, or Kevin), and Brigid of Kildare. Post-modern, shallow dickhead that I am, I will pick and choose which bits I like, and disregard the rest. From Cóemgen I take my name Irished up for the day, and from Brigid I pay my respects to her apparent miracle of turning her dirty bathwater into delicious beer. Slainte!
My almost-wife is Irish (Northern), and we both like a cooked breakfast on a Saturday, so I started the day by cooking up a Full Irish. Essentially it's the same as a Full English. In fact, it's exactly the same, because 'Full English' seems not to have a set definition. Depending who makes it it contains different stuff. When I make a cooked breakfast, English or Irish, it needs black pudding (preferably Bury, the best black pudding in the world, probably). I also enjoy hash browns. Today I also fried up a couple of pieces of Bury white pudding. One problem however: I didn't get any Soda bread. That would have been the one ingredient that would have prevented any Irish/English confusion. Never mind, there was potato cakes, so don't panic.
OK, I'm off. Make mine a Guinness. Slowly. No logo. :p
Here, have some Irish hip hop:
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