St. Patrick’s Day Faux Pas

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Today is St. Patrick’s Day – the most drunken time of the year besides Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, 4th of July, Valentine’s Day,  Veteran’s Day and Thursday-Sundays. Whatever you do, please don’t get caught participating in any of these Patty’s Day Faux Pas.

1. If while out partying on St. Patrick’s Day, you piss your pants, own up to it early. 

Next Step:

DO take a trip to everyone’s favorite non-union establishment: Walmart and pick up a nice pair of green sweatpants. Then on your way out, you can throw your piss pants at unsuspecting Walmart shoppers. Those low prices come with a price. And so often that price is piss. 

DON’T shove your crotch under a bathroom hand-dryer and hope for the best for the following reasons:

  • Dried pee pants smell worse than your breath after seven hours of drinking green beer.
  • There’s probably someone passed out under the hand-dryer and it’d be rude to wake him/her/it.

 2. Green barf does not mean you are more Irish than the person sitting/lying/passed-out on the bar stool next to you. Keep it in your gullet. Only amateurs barf…in the bar. Save it for the cab ride home.

3. Relations with a Ginger is totally acceptable and expected on St. Patrick’s Day. Don’t miss this wonderful opportunity to experience the magic of red on the head and red in the bed.

4.  Kids like St. Patty’s Day too! Don’t leave your offspring at home alone or with someone you just met outside of Walgreen’s. Instead, be a responsible parent…bring them along while you drink the day and night away. Attach your kid(s) to one of those child leashes and then tie that leash to a tree or hot guy/girl you’re trying to get with. And make sure the leash is green so your kid feels a part of the party while he/she/them cry out, “Mommy, please untie me. Wake up, Mommy. You said we can’t put our faces on the street cuz it’s yucky. You’re yucky. I’m scared. Mommy! Mommy! The police man says if you don’t wake up I have to go with him.”

5. DON’T celebrate with your spouse and/or significant other. This will only make it harder for you to cheat on him or her. Party alone and meet up later when you are too drunk, sweaty and annoying for anyone else to be interested in you.

6. When you drop your cell phone in the restroom toilet/urinal (AND YOU WILL), there is a 6 second rule. Digging for it longer than that is just uncivilized.

7. If you feel like beating someone up on St. Patty’s Day, punch yourself in the face instead.

8. Don’t be that annoying person screaming into a megaphone about how everyone should expose their genitals. Also, we all know you’re wasted so there’s no reason to shout it outloud over and over and over again. If you witness someone doing this, find a car and run them over.

9. Quit pretending you like Flogging Molly. Yes there are some real fans of their music out there (approximately 15), but everyone else is just jumping on the bandwagon to Lame Town, USA. I’ve seen clogged toilets with more talent than Molly and her Flogging. 

10. St. Patrick’s Day is not the time for serious conversations. Now is not the time to share with your friends all of your conspiracy theories. Save these for Memorial Day Weekend. 

  • Sonic tater tots cause sterility in white males.
  • The Obama Care Website is really just the Tumblr of an illegal baby. Every time someone signs up for it, that baby gets vaccinated…FOR FREE!
  • The State of Florida is just a glitch in the Matrix. (Although that one is true, your friends are too drunk to understand)
  • There exists a super fun secret island off the coast Japan invented by the Illuminati. It’s a magical place where women never cry and men never leave. The sand is one giant bouncy house and the trees are made of Skittles and french fries. There are no taxes, you are never afraid and no one ever gains a pound. However, organized religion has placed a forcefield around it for fear that if the public knew of its Heavenly existence, there would be no need for religion. 

12. THE ONLY appropriate people to drunk dial on St. Patrick’s Day are the following:

  • Your first grade teacher. It’s time you tell that b*tch why she shouldn’t have held you back twice. “Oh hi there Mrs. Annen. Or should I say, fart mouth! You think you’re so special cuz you can read? Well I know karate.”
  •  Your kids. It’s time they know once and for all why you don’t have custody. “It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that my new boyfriend/girlfriend and booze are more important to me. You’ll understand when you’re older and doing the same thing to your unwanted kids thanks to our shitty genetics.”
  • President Obama. “Heeyy…OHBummer. What the eff are you doing? Why is my life still messed up? I thought you were a magical  unicorn fairy man-wizard who would make cigarettes healthy and cure childhood obesity. You suck! I’m glad I don’t vote!”

And there you have it. Party on, freckles!




I’m not drunk. My boobs are just really heavy today.




My girl wants to vomit all the time. Vomit all the time. Vomit all the tiiiiiime.




Leave me alone! It’s a party and I’ll beat up this little boy if I want to!


Dude, seriously. You’re getting too wasted. You just put on some puka shells.



I’m so pissed. There’s a dude in detox wearing the exact same shirt as me.


Come here boy. I got fillings older than you.


I don’t need no f*cking holiday. I party hard every Monday.



See Jill. See Jill drink AGAIN…

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Happy almost St. Patrick’s Day. Aka Amateur Day. AKA Palegurl’s FAVORITE lady-drunk, Jill’s day to shine! Like only she can.

This is Jill. See Jill drink until she throws up onto her parent’s carpet.

If you don’t remember Jill’s St. Patty’s Day escapades from last year, feel free to  scroll down and find her story.

This year Jill plans to party harder than she’s ever partied before. Actually she has been pre-gaming since Monday. Her drink of choice this year – Everclear and Diet Peach Snapple. This drink guarantee’s Jill will get so crunked, she won’t feel a thing. A thing.

I recently spoke with a clearly intoxicated Jill at 8 am this morning  about her plans for this, her most sacred week of the year.  Enjoy!

Palegurl:  So what’s on the agenda for this week?

Jill: Well, I feel like I’m a canary because I really like Tigers, but they don’t like me – ya know? (she briefly passes out) Do you want to see my cesarean scar?

Palegurl: You have a kid?

Jill: Doi. Like of course. I  wanted to be a mom since 5th grade. In 7th grade, my dream came true and I had a baby girl. But I gave her to my parents.  It’s not like I didn’t want her, but I already had to take care of my cat, Bubble Farter. And my parents have a pool. (Jill stares at me as if she has forgoten who I am) Do you know Dirtball Devin?

Palegurl: Can’t say I do.

Jill (squeals): You don’t know Dirtball Devin!?! She’s like my partner in shots. She can take like a bar full of shots and still not pass out while hooking up with dudes at after-parties in Tempe. (Spits on my lips as she whispers to me – almost touching my face) Sshh…like don’t tell her I’m telling you, but she told me her number.

Palegurl: Number of guys she’s been with?

Jill: Duh! What other number is there, bitch?

Palegurl: Quite a few.

Jill: Sshh. Her number is 269. Can you believe it? 69! It’s like fate.

Palegurl: I’m sure you’re close.

Jill: Totally. How old are you? Like 48?

Palegurl: I’m 31.

Jill: Dude!?! Do you have grandkids n shit?

Palegurl: No. I don’t even have kids.

Jill: Oh…I get it. It’s supes dupes late for you. You’re that thing…like you’re too dry to give life.

Palegurl: Sure. So where are you headed this year on St. Patty’s Day?

Jill: Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere with a bar and maybe a bull cuz that’s like authentic to Irish people and stuff. You should totally come with and show your tits. Sometimes I ride bulls at bars with a random  girl. We do it reverse cow-girl. After that so many  guys lift up our skirts. Last year it got so annoying so we just took them off.

Palegurl: That sounds fun for you.

Jill: Yeah. I’m sure we’ll be on Mill Avenue. But if any of those greasy, dreaded no homes people try to touch me before I get drunk, I’ll yell fire and then throw my cig on them. But like, I’m not a total bitch. After Midnight, I’ll give them some play. EXCEPT for that girl with the 3 teeth and the pit bull. I have standards n shit. 4 teeth and a Yorkie is one thing, but she’s like gag me with a meth pipe gross.

Jill changes into just a bikini top and makes me touch her cesarean scar and then brush her hair.

Jill: No, dumbass! You’re doing it wrong! You gotta rat the top of my hair  and then straighten my bangs and then spray the shit out of it. What are you from like the year 2000?

Palegurl: Yes.

Jill is now on her 9th glass of Everclear and Diet Peach Snapple.

Jill: Don’t you feel bad for fat people?

Palegurl: Um…

Jill: It’s like they are there, but no one wants bang them. That’s like a tragedom.

Palegurl: Do you mean a tragedy?

Jill: Show me your tits! Come on. You’re boresville to the max!

Palegurl: I would, but I’m pre-maturely lactating and I’d hate for it to squirt out into your eye and make you go blind.

Jill: Colorblind? Ewwwww.

Jill sits legs crossed on the carpet of her living room and pukes on the floor.

Jill: Oopsie. It just fell out.

Jill tries to clean it up with her hand.

Jill: Can you hand me that box of wine?

Palegurl: Maybe you should just chill for a second.

Jill: No way. Whenever I puke I know, it’s time for White Zin!

Palegurl: Are you celebrating with anyone this year?

Jill: Well, I was going to go with Moranica, Liberty and Kennedy. I work with them at Souper Salad, but it’s like they are supes jealous of me and can’t even fit into extra small dresses at Ross. I just don’t know if I can fly with that mess.  I really try to stick  to my morals.

Palegurl: Interesting.

Jill: If I don’t go with anyone, I’ll just probably get up on some bar and shake my ass until I get sleepy.  Someone is bound to pick me up off the floor.

See Jill celebrate St. Patty’s Day from 3/3/11-Easter Sunday, which is the day Jill refers to as God’s turn to get drunk.

This is how I found Jill ten minutes after our interview.

Jills “friend” Liberty was yelling at her: “Get up skank! You didn’t finish  your Irish Car Bomb.”

Jill’s “friend” Moranica:

I’m like so Jager-depressed.

Has anyone seen my eyeball?

Dear God, It’s me Moranica. Can you please make sure the urine I left in this corner of the bar disappears? If you help me today, I’ll never let another one of my boyfriends talk me into a six-some.


Oh. My. God. This is my buttplug brother’s skeez of a GF. Aren’t her mint Uggs like super gross and stuff? Look at her knees – they’re so grody.

I mean, who barfs in a bathroom?


This is just what I do before I drive home.

I’m fine. I can drive. I just need to shut my eyes for a second.

Who stole half the halter from my top?

The cement feels so good on my black-eye.

Tongue kiss me with your friends – I’m 47 and my kids live with their dad and his new wife.

Jill’s sister Jocelyn:

I’m too skinny to go to jail! I got this outfit at Baby Gap.

My sister is driving home with her feet, but I’m getting arrested!?

Random Dude Jill hooked up with Tuesday night:

This St. Patrick’s Day, I’m just looking for a chick who’s willing to close her eyes during sex.

Happy Amateur Black-Out Day to all those who prescribe to the religion of green beer and waking up in bodily fluids.

God Bless!