Another poor excuse for shit-headery. Let's celebrate the (Welsh!) patron saint of a country most of us have no ties to by drinking milky beer, listening to shit Irish music (like U2's most recent efforts) or credible artists (like The Pogues and Van Morrison) getting turned into one-hit wonders, wearing a colour that doesn't suit anyone and throwing up in the gutter. Well sign me up. Twiddle-ee-dee, I'm a fucking leprechaun.
To quote a good friend of mine: "364 days a year The Pogues are one of my favourite bands and I love Guinness. Today is my day off." Nicely said.
In case you couldn't guess, Irish bars are always shit.
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