The Tale of Irish Mayhem

Once upon last Saturday, three good friends celebrated St. Patty's Day. Though it caused their livers much chagrin, it brought much joy to the rest of their lives. The good tidings began at around 3 with lunch and an inaugural drink at Eulogy. There, the friends mused about who the heck St. Patrick is. The doe-eyed, bushy-haired girl was under the impression he was a dude who led some snakes out of Ireland. It sounds outrageous, but the little literature scholar wasn't so far off course.

The rest of the day unraveled as the group had hoped, with much debauchery and celebration that included, but was not limited to, imbibing Irish car bombs and downing shots of Jameson. But, kids, this story is not without a twist, and so I introduce: The Dirty Leprechaun and the Magic Pizza.

At some point in this most wonderful of Saturday nights, one of the friends announced that a shot would be consumed. "What shot?" asked the jolly bartender. "The dirty leprechaun," answered the friend, with a twinkle in his eye. "I've never heard of that," said the bartender. "Pray you, tell me what to put in it!" The friend paused, having no idea what was in the shot he had just prescribed. That's because he wasn't sure the shot existed. (sidenote: it does!) But damned if that friend was going to let the moment pass with nary an alcoholic intake.

So he made the shot up! "Bailey's, Creme de menthe... and... and..." he struggled to name another cordial. Then another friend, sensing his frustration, spoke up. "BACARDI!" she offered, happily. Though the rest of the friends gave her strange looks, the shot was concocted, imbibed, and verily enjoyed. And since it warranted such enjoyment, it was repeated again through the night.

Of course, as the night wore down, the friends grew tired and drunk... with joy. They headed home, but their stomachs cried out for nourishment. "What shall we do?" they asked, frantically. Luckily, they located a pizza place with reasonable prices and hearty fare, and there they placed their order of a large pepperoni pie.

Well, kids, let me not exaggerate from the truth here: the pizza was indeed magical. It's properties were so great as to span not just deliciousness, but also the staving off of a future hangover. Surely the next morning would have been painful had it not been for that magical pizza with its perfectly round pepperoni and crusty, doughy goodness. Surely!

Thus concludes my tale, but the St. Patrick's Day mayhem lives on in the hearts of all good friends, including YOU!