St Broadband’s Day

They say Christmas only comes once a year… I guess someone forgot to tell St. Patrick. You see, next to Halloween, Mardi Gras, and that depressing two week window in late December when everyone feels lonely and desperate, there is no better time for a gentleman to go out carousing than St. Patty’s Day. The alcohol flows like the swiftest Irish spring, chicks wear skimpy green outfits to commemorate the destitute émigrés of the Potato Famine, and even amateur pick-up lines like “Kiss me I’m Irish,” “I wanna shamrock your body,” and “Baby, you can banish my snakes” are surprisingly effective.

But beyond the joy of sharing several, rabid moments with complete strangers you’ll never see again, St. Patty’s Day is also a celebration of the many Irish innovations we enjoy the world over, such as redheads, violence, and of course, the limerick. Here are some limericks I’ve been crafting over the course of the last few minutes. Look for them in my forthcoming anthology of poems, “A Man For A Dream.”

There once was a well-dressed man,
Who made a young lady a fan,
She gave him her number,
He laid pipe like a plumber,
Then before she awoke he ran.

All the fair lasses kept starin’,
At a lad in the tavern MacLaren,
They fought for this stud,
In their bras and the mud,
Must be that pinstripe he’s wearin’.

There was a young lass from Killarney,
Who promised a gentleman named Arnie,
That she only was his
Though a fat lie this is,
‘Cause last night she was screaming O’Barney.

A man in a sharp navy blazer
Clearly hand-tailored by razor,
Went on a roll,
Captured his goal,
And never got tagged by a laser.

I was in love with a chick named Pam,
Who showed me pics of her fam,
Pretty cute cat,
But her mom was fat,
So I dumped her that night on the tram.

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