Notes from the Drunkard’s Den with Old No. 22

Yuppies and yuppy hoverers,

Very disappointing St. Paddy’s Day.  First of all, a couple of rain drops and no one shows up.  I have to say it was great for us because no one showed up to our local, and we had it all to ourselves…and we had a great time.  Second of all, you had to make up for your yuppy-douche-bagness on the real date (That would be the 17th of March) by making yourselves totally obnoxious.  Bumping and pushing your way to the bar, asking my skinny friend to push over on his f%&*ing bar stool because you needed a seat.  (I can’t make this shit up.)

Just because your great-great-great-grandmother came from Connemara doesn’t mean you’re Irish.  (YOU’RE F%$@ING AMERICAN!)  It means she and her husband worked their asses off, and so on and so on down the line, so you could be a pampered princess or trevor (see Southie Dictionary) from the outlying suburbs 60 years later.

Remember one thing always: There might not be a lot of us left, but I am from South Boston, born and bred, and you can never say that.  So don’t be so pushy or so proud U R NOT FROM SOUTHIE OMG.