luck o'.

....well,
i mean,
i AM zero percent irish, after all.
y'know?
so i'm counting on none of their famous luck today.
at all.
of course,
i'm never banking on rainbows' ends and pots of gold anyway.
i'm also positive i'll not find many one-shoe cobbler elves, either.
it's sort of a chicken/egg thing.
either way, i'm not coming out ahead.
i'll also note that being completely sober will most probably
appreciably decrease my odds of being filled with
smiling eyes, blarney'd tongue, and kissed-up lips.
awwwww, man.
'kiss me i'm NOT irish' sounds mildly racist, y'know?
yeah, i know you know.
we all do.
anyway,
infinite nature has made me a red branch knight
in a land of snowy forests
and wild raging windswept mountainscapes,
under the inauspicious illuminated crystal-clear canopy
of werewolfen  full-moon skies.
whoa.
that's a whole lot going on in a short span of time,
and all of it is all really happening today.
yeah.
today is obviously the day, neighbors.
st. patrick's day.
wearing green?
you betcha.
drinking irish breakfast tea with a slice of soda bread?
heck yes, y'all.
eating boiled stuff for dinner?
yes i surely and most certainly am.
i mean, c'mon.
what am i?
an A*-hole?
no way.
i'm made out of stuff that started out italian;
but,
so was st. patrick,
so i'll thank you kindly to F* right off.
i love holidays,
and i'll take any reason to add a little expertism to any day.
thematic, site-specific rituals, rites, and routines are flippin' awesome.
that's for realsies, kids.
that's why today,
i doo-doo all that emerald isle-style sh!t.
well,
all except for getting drunk on jameson, guiness, bailey's, harp, etc
there's where the train jumps the tracks.
i hate what i hate, and that doesn't get time off for the holidays.
rules is rules, like it or not.
corned seitan, tho?
yeah.
that is gonna jump off tonight, like wha-whaaaaaat?!!!
check the boiled-brown-on-brown-type teleport:

slabs of whole-wheat baby flesh.
i can't help it, friends-
that's just what that looks like to me.
all that gluten in fatty-boombattie steaks of wheat-meaty hottness
is just about the most expert part of today.
i freak it off with other flours and spices an' that, too,
because too much is never less than just right.
real talk.
celiac nightmare it may be,
but Folk Life kitchen dreams are made from it more often by far.
besides,
it'll be better once it's added to cabbage and rutabagas and turnips
and all that other other broth-basted vegetable business.
but,
what about after dinner, you ask?
oh.
we'll be smoking kelly green custom briar pipes,
stamped with today's big action, from dublin's own petersen.
that's the uppermost extent i'll go towards feeling fancy,
holding a shillelagh, notwithstanding.
looking the part,
feeling foolish,
and acting accordingly.
today is the day,
and although i won't be engaging in what the commoners consider fun,
i'm sure to be actively participating in my small, cozy,
simple pleasures all the same;
never mcquiet, never o'soft.....