Stupid fucking holiday. I’m led to understand that in actual, real, Irish Ireland, St. Patrick’s day is a pretty normal holiday.
But not in New York City! Noooooooo. In New York (and elsewhere in the States), St. Patrick’s day is an excuse for every asshole of every ethnicity and religion to go drink.
And the fucking amateurs don’t even know how! And since there are about 5 Million cops in midtown for the parade, where do you think the amateurs go to get good and tanked?
My neighborhood and Chelsea. Fucking assholes.
I got hit by a damn drunk driver this weekend. Not once. Twice! So now I’m hobbling around, my side hurts like I got hit by a Clemens fastball, my knee won’t scab up and I’m bleeding like a stuck pig all day, I have to get my wrist X-rayed, I’m typing one-handed (for all the wrong reasons), I owe email to friends but don’t have the time or ability to write them and life just generally is not a happy thing this week. We won’t even discuss the compliance report that won’t get done by Thursday unless my secretary gets over her flu because I can’t type the thing up.
Listen carefully, amateurs – go drink somewhere else. And keep your damn cars there. Where is the pied piper or St. Patrick or the Orkin man or whoever can rid my town of these accursed people?
God, manhattan, that’s terrible! I’m glad you are alright enough to be mad .
I know where you’re coming from about the drunks. I live near the beach and every spring break and Memorial Day the fools come in beer-saturated droves. They park where they want, throw their trash all over the beach and have car wrecks.
Oh my God, manny, baby! I’m so glad you’re OK, sorta. Anything I can do for you? I mean, I’m in Virginia at the moment, but I’d be glad to virtually run to the store for you, or give you a sponge bath, or whatever. Just let me know, k?
Just thinking. Wit Manny incapacitated this might be a great time to head over to GQ and ask what does “All your base are belong to us” mean. I think that would be a great idea for a thread title.
Try coming to Philadelphia sometime for the New Year’s Day Mummers’ Parade - I call it “South Philly Pride Day,” where Irishmen and Italians alike can dress in drag, parade around like Alban from “La Cage Aux Folles” in glitter, maribu and lame, and piss in alleyways. Woo hoo!
I am also reminded of Bill Maher’s comment on “Politically Incorrect” that in every city that tries to do Mardi Gras they end up with fires and rapes and riots and the like - except New Orleans, where they just know how to do it right.
Sympathies, manny. Oddly enough, similar things happened at the Amsterdope. Amongst much else, TwistofFate was completely felled by a curb that came out of nowhere, Hirernicus found himself in all sorts of trouble that only the police could resolve and I fell off the underside of a table. Coincidentally, none of these events were our fault either.
Drunk driving is very, very bad but just think how much worse it might have been had you been drinking and not had your wits about you
What a pain. I agree with you 100%. Over here in Ireland while the day isn’t as cheesey as other places it is still cantered around drink. We too have our share of amateurs when it comes to the fine art of getting rat arsed so I empathise completely.
Driving while drunk is moronic and I’m glad that you came out of it so lightly. :mad:
Ouch. And I thought my weekend was bad - the wife and I ate some bad hotdogs while watching the parade, and spent the rest of the day alternating between the bed and the bathroom, getting drunk on Pepto-Bismol.
I just don’t get it. What kind of person goes out with the intention to drink, and brings his car? In New York City?
Dammit, Manny, I hoe you feel better soon. I wouldn’t presume to hug you, but how about a virtual squeeze on your shoulder?
__
//Manhattan
Thanks for the kind words, all. I feel a lot better today - my wrist is still a little stiff and swollen, but not enough to justify an X-ray, and my side doesn’t hurt so much.
In a real sense, of course, I was pretty lucky. One doesn’t often get hit by two cars on the same day and not get seriously hurt. In this case, one was just turning the corner against the sign and hadn’t built up a lot of speed yet, and the other one backed into me. (I got hit by his spare tire – go figure, an accident involving an SUV in which the target was less hurt because of how the things are configured.)
So nothing serious. But I have a brutal cold too. And as all women know, when a man gets sick he becomes nothing more than a huge pile of self-indulgent whine. I consider myself somewhat fortunate that I actually had something half-legitimate to whine about. Otherwise I would have opened a Pit thread about my poor performance in the office NCAA pool or something.
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