So another St Patrick's Day has passed. What a relief. I hatew St Patrick's Day. So. Much. Sorry, it's obnoxious and unnesicary. I mean, let's look at how we celebrate it. Every March 17th, all the Irish Americans wear green shirts and leprechaun hats and shamrock-shaped sunglasses and they have a parade in Boston and Wal-Mart makes a fortune selling "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" shirts and The Pogues tour the East Coast.
Okay, what the hell is all the green about? It's not like in Ireland you have to wear all green, all the time or you get kicked off the island. It's really not the green that bothers me, so much as this

What the HELL does that have to do with Ireland?? Huh?? Look, if that's celebrating your Irish heritage, than I'd be celebrating my Jewish heritage if I wore Star of David-shaped sunglasses and a sparkly blue and white yamaka on, say, Rosh Hashana. What I'm trying to say is, St Patrick's Day is obnoxious and pointless. It's pointless because it's not even a big deal in Ireland. Irish Irish don't feel the need to dress up like friking leprechauns. If they have parades or whatever, it's just for American tourists. I hate that Americans have to make a big, stupid, tacky deal out of every little holiday that comes our way. It's just embarrassing. Honestly, I'm so sick of my country.
The thing that really gets to me about this stupid, stupid holiday is really just the mindset. I mean, why do Irish Americans need a special day just to be Irish. Excuse me, my fellow Irish Americans, I don't know about you, but I'm Irish the other 364 days of the year, too. I don't need to prove my Irish-ness to anybody on St Patrick's Day, so there. I wore all black on St Patrick's Day. Black mock turtleneck, leather jacket, jeans, socks, nail polish, and Doc Martens. Pinch me all you want.