At this point of my life, I would like to thank the green shores of Ireland for intstilling in me the glorious skill of drinking.
And at this next point of my rathor worthless sense of wordly existence I'm going to make an assumption. I'm going to assume that whomever reads this blog has some sort of difficulty with managing their alcohol consumption.
Shit. I have no idea where I was going with that thought. What I do know is that I'm on the verge of blackout. And I would like you all to enjoy some lyrics about the wondrous nation that I call my drunken grandfather's homeland!
Ireland I am coming home,
I can see your rolling fields of green
And fences made of stone.
I am reaching out, won't you take my hand?
I'm coming home! Ireland!
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