Hello again. I haven’t written in awhile. It’s been a busy few months, but vacation has allowed me the time & opportunity to both commit to, and find inspiration for, the written word. However, my source of inspiration today may bring strong feelings of disappointment. If that’s the case, congratulations. You’re now qualified to be a future ex-Mrs. Michael J. Gagliano.
Those of you who, via social media, frequent my bullshittery & shenanigans know I wax philosophic about drinking. I don’t write legendary nonfiction tomes about politics and American life because, let’s face it, that’s not me. It’s not my style. It would be terribly dishonest of me. When I have waxed political, it’s primarily to poke fun of civil servants who pretend to give a shit about their constituents.
Also, it’s more fun for me to include “colorful metaphors” in my writing. Like “fuck,” “shit,” and “jock itch.”
So what chestnut of Viva Americana has inspired me to put fat fingers to keyboard on this fine day?
No, you did not misread that. I said “laundry.” And yes, there is a corealation between laundry and drinking, at least in my case. You see, as I’ve torn through and sorted the vast teenage wasteland (windmill please, Mr. Townsend) of the dirty laundry in my basement, I now realize that I am the owner of so many St. Patrick’s related t-shirts, that the quantity is most accurately described as a “megafuckload.”
For a 40-year-old guy who really doesn’t drink anymore, I own way too many of these tees. I’ve imbibed responsibly for years. Heck, on St. Patrick’s Day, I hoof my sober ass down to the bars & stumble it back. No muss, no fuss. No paying for parking, no parking tickets, no DUI’s, and everybody lives to see another day. I don’t even go with the intent of getting completely blotto. I simply don’t monitor my drinking. Nice. Fun. Hassle-free.
So how in the name of St. Paddy’s left testicle did I wind up, at 40 years old, with this motley crew of thematic apparel?
> > > > > > >
Danny’s Irish Pub St. Pat’s 2013 tee (Proceeds to MDA, so technically, a charitable tax write-off. Now I don’t feel so bad).
Green long-sleeve “Made In Ireland” tee (a gift).
Green Cedar Point tee. Worn on St. Patrick’s Day once. Therefore, it counts.
Green mock-Notre-Dame “Party Like A Champion” shamrock tee.
White w/blue ringer shamrock tee, “Proud to be Irish, lucky to be drunk.”
Grey “Property of WRIF Drinking Team” tee.
Kelly green shamrock tee, “Lush O’ The Irish.”
Green WRIF 40th anniversary St. Pat’s tee.
Plain olive green tee. Purchased with intent.
Plain Kelly green tee. Worn on St. Pat’s.
Olive green tee w/ shamrock & mock-iconic meme, “Keep calm & drink on.”
Green tee w/ white ringers, “Only you can prevent forest fires. Which is good, because I’ve got shit to do.” Worn on St. Pat’s.
White tee w/ red ringers, green lettering & shamrock, “New Jersey Irish.”
Green softball tee w/ black sleeves, “Ask me about my complete lack of interest.” Worn on St. Pat’s.
White softball tee w/ blue sleeves & green lettering, “Hooligan (with giant shamrock).”
Green Detroit St. Patrick’s 2008 tee.
There may be more that I haven’t unearthed. I’m just not sure. Oh, and we haven’t even gotten to my St. Pat’s-themed baseball caps. That’s a whole other wheelbarrow of feces.
Knowing that spring is the season of renewal, I may now be compelled to purge some of these novelties from my wardrobe like a 12-stepper from a Belfast watering hole.
On the other hand, green is a common favorite color of people with genius IQ’s.
Maybe I’ll just crack open a beer and begin working on that next great American novel.