Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Éirinn go brách

While driving home this Saint Pat's I was pining for some clover.

A parking spot opened in front of my neighborhood bar, and I pulled over.

Had a Guinness, a corned beef sandwich and listened to Where The Streets Have No Name.

Struck up a conversation with a shamrock who fell off her bar stool in pain

Either because she was too drunk, or I was too boring and sober.

photo courtesy of

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