Do you fucking know anything about the Irish? This is how they greet newcomers:
See, they're being all polite and civil-like. They aren't draping themselves in garish green pieces of shit from whatever animal it is that shits vinyl. I bet you those things aren't even native to Ireland. It's a nice fucking country. Or, wait, maybe it's this other one.
How should I know? I don't take no shit from Wiki captions. Fuck 'em, I've got a brain, I can figure this shit out for myself. Anyway, seeing as I was not greeted in either of these fucking fashions, I can safely assume that you've got your Ireshit mixed up.
There I was, parking Greg (That's the Datsun), at the Dog Park, and I'd just gone around the passenger side to let L'il Cheetor out. And what do you fucking know, some fucks across the street are sitting in their green lawn chairs screaming at each other over the bagpipe CD they probably got at fucking Hallmark. Do assholes like this even shop at Hallmark? Rite-Aid, maybe. Who gives a shit.
So, there they are, shouting shit like, "And then the fucker runs out of Cheer Free. Gooooood, I need some more cheese." Let's out the weirdest fuckin' donkey laugh. I look over and see the half empty natty box at fucking 12:32 or some shit, and then the music stops to switch tracks. And these assholes start shouting at me as if I'm the one not being some kinda fucking upstanding citizen for looking at 'em as they sit in the yard getting drunk off green piss.
Well, L'il Cheetor and I had a good walk and we come back to hear that the bagpipes have given way to "Land of Confusion." Fucks are real Fucking Irish. I start to wonder what Ireland thinks of this Holiday. Fuck if I know. Guess it depends which picture is right. Weird fucking holiday.
To Cultural Generalizations!
The New Thomas Jefferson
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