Listen up, bitches. I can trace 5% of my history back to Ireland, so kiss me. It’s St. Patrick’s day! I deserve it. Right, Julie? Haha! Wait… what? Kristin? Okay, Kristin. What the fuck ever. This is my holiday. Hang on.
What, Trisha? I’m just hanging out. What are you doing? Just let me have some fun! Right, guys?
It’s nothing. She’s my wife. Didn’t even want to come here just cause she had a baby a few days ago, but I was like Trish fuck that. You know I’m 5% Irish. We are going down to McGonnigan’s and drinking some Guinness or my name isn’t Anthony Giovanni. Right, ladies? Kiss me I’m Irish!
Got a little wing sauce on the ol’ face and the ol’ shirt and a bit on the ol’ pant leg but fuck it, right? St. Pat’s! Woo! Basically any bitches who don’t kiss me today are racist against Irish people. Right? Hey! Partying over here, ladies. Focus.
Hey! Hey! Are y’all like, best friends or something? I heard you should ask chicks that. Probably read it on like Facebook or something. So are you? You guys want to do a shot? It’s fucking St. Patricks day! Yeah! Get pumped up!
Ugh. I’ll be right back.
Okay hey what’s up? I had a hard time finding you guys! You moved to a totally different part of the bar. I just had to head into the bathroom for a little puke’n’rally but I’m back now and feeling strong. Also dropped a deuce. Must have been the taquitos from earlier.
Anyway, want to do a couple shots, huh? Let’s do it! St. Patrick’s day! Woo! Time to kiss me, because I am Irish, just like the shirt says.