St. Patrick's Day - A fun a holiday or a facsist dress code enforcement on my everyday drinking

St. Patrick's day- we all love it right? But when you're always doing things like planning ahead on which bar you're walking home from or who you can get to drive you, there isn't much difference except for an exceptional amount of people wearing green and using fake Irish accents. Don't get me wrong. I love the Irish, they're drinkers. They've got a great gig going with leprauchans and blarney stones and even incoherent women singing at the touching end of many a great movie. But when I'm trying to get on with my blotto like a regular saturday, I don't want people wishing me a happy holiday. It's hardly a holiday and it's not happy when I don't get free stuff. Even on Easter, I get eggs. Yes, I'll admit that it's nice to through a party for no reason, but if I can't get a seat in my local watering hole because of a bunch of chum faces decide to go to a bar because it's got Murphy's in its name, I get upset - I get Irish upset! Maybe even fighting Irish upset. However, I do enjoy the green beer. It's nice to drink something that at least looks different but has that manly taste of beer (sorry beer drinking ladies, my heart goes out). Maybe they should keep that going and randomly color beer every few weeks or so.
Also, I've started smoking again. It's made me less stressed but now I've got to avoid my doctor so my health insurance won't find out and raise their premiums. You know what that means? I've got to go to a black market doctor. Ever seen that part in Minority Report where Tom Cruise gets his eyes switched out, that's not very different than that except there's less technology and more rotting food in the fridge. Just kidding. I don't know any black market doctors, but if you know a guy who does back surgery out of his garage, I'd be inclined to ask for more information. What else is new? Oh yeah. I've decided that if you roll your own cigarrettes, you're either really tight with your budget or you're a crack addict with no money who stops on my lawn at three in the morning and starts plucking Steve Miller as my dog goes fucking apeshit. Seriously.... Oh, it's great to be a part of the blog. I don't usually complain so much but it's starting to get hot out here in AZ and it makes a great excuse.