luck o'.

happy saint patrick's day, neighbors.
a whole day of potatoes and drunkenness and boiled sh!t.
expert.
ummmm,
wait.
there will be no alcohol in the Folk Life & O'Liberty McFortress today,
nor any other other day, for that matter-
you may not be aware, but i assure you
it's okay not to drink.
moreover,
it's a whole holy helluva lot less F*ing lame when you aren't
feelin' the green beer buzz of a saint paddywhacker.
really.
but, despite the uninebriated excellence of a sober celebration,
there will absolutely still be potatoes, and boiled sh!t.
mmmhmmm.
rules is rules, always.
and besides,
it's also a snow day,
and that means there are an awful lot of possibilities brewing away
under the cloudcover.
there is a low likelihood of pot o' gold rainbow leprechaun jauns,
but a very high rate of cake eating.
huh?
yep.
you know i made holiday treats.
don't be dumb.
check the blarney-from-kilarney-type teleport:

irish cream cakes,
sans bailey's but plus coffeecreme frosting.
a vegan heavy creamchee' and sourcream crumb,
moister than cuchulain's crotchal puffs, kids.
yikes!
did i just interject some pagan red branch business in with our favorite
holy roman busybody's snakecharmin' shillelagh stuff?
wordimus prime, duders,
you know how we get down.
and on the really real-
it IS legitimately delicious, despite that description,
so much so that i'm about to eat another 'nother one.
mmmm, creamy.
it doesn't hurt one bit that there's so dang much coffee-extractive activated
whipped-up frosting, in white and green holiday-appropriate
seasonally accurate site-specific sexxxiness for your face.
woooooooooooooooord.
not to mention, i took it to eleven right away,
when doused 'em with a buttload of two types of kelly-colored sprankles.
yeah!
treats are a thing when holiday times are in effect.
and i LOVE holidays, guys.
like, so hard.
***********
tattoos all day,
boiling roots all night,
and treats in between.
with ice and snow coming down,
and a journey over to the accountant added in?
damn.
it's a full day before it even begins,
and since i'm clearly in full swing, it seems even fuller, somehow.
ew.
there's more to do than there are hours to do all of it in,
and that's the way it always seems to be.
too much is the right amount,
but time is not correctly included in that equation.
i'm rushing around,
and i'm wearing green,
and i've got luck and labor, smilin' eyes, and a kissable mouth
all lined up for an overdose of doo-doo doings and buttery breads....
it's all really happening,
and it's all too much for me to take in in one sitting;
never o'quiet, never mcsoft.....