Worst. Saint. Patrick's. Day. Ever.

Did I Get To Eat Corned Beef?

No.

Did I Get To Drink An Irish Carbomb?

No.

Did O Get To Spend St. Patrick's Day With Friends, Family and Assorted Loved Ones? Sharing Mutual Pride In Your Heritage?

No.

Did I Even Get To Set Foot Inside A Bar?

No.

Did you have to Work?

Yes.

Did I Get To Stay A Forty Minutes Late At Work?

Yes.

Does That Mean I Got Overtime?

No.

Did I Get Out Of Work To Find That Someone had slashed Your Bike Tire Valves?

Yes.

After Walking For Twenty Minutes Did You Find A Line Extended Around The Block At The Pub You Where Planning On Going To?

Yes.

Was There A Single Irish Person In That Line?

No.

Did I Then Decide to swallow your Pride And Buy Some Guiness At The Overpriced Ralphs across The Street?

Yes.

How'd That Go?

A Meth Head Tried To Mug Me In the Parking Lot.

Really?

Yes Very Politely.

How'd You Know He Was On Meth?

Oh He told me.

How'd You Get Rid Of Him?

I Told him the cops had left and he could get his Pipe Back.

That Sucks?

Yeah But It's Fucking LA.

So After That Did You Start the Five Mile Walk Back To Your Flat?

Yes.

How'd That Go.

Not Well.

Did The Cops Stop You?

Yeah.

How Many Times?

Twice.

Rather THen The Meth Head?

Yes.

Where you Riding Your Bike? It's Still A DUI, if you do Are?

I Was Walking My Bike. Someone Cut My Fucking Valves.

So What Did You Do Then?

Finally Got Home Two hours after Leaving Work. Starting Drinking My Guiness, Wrote This.

That Blows.

Yeah.

Maybe Next Time You'll Get lucky and Just Drown in your own vomit after puking in a gutter.

One Can Only Hope.