God be with you, Ireland.

Well there’s 7 minutes left of St. Patricks day although I heard that officially those wacky Catholics had moved it to the 15th. It’s no secret I heart Ireland. I don’t know why, I’ve always loved it and I’ve always been fascinated with everything about it, especially the history, the writers and the land (literally) oooh and the irish film board, man about dog and intermission, need I say more?!!

Anyway, I’m just midnight rambling here. This is all well and good that St. Patrick’s was allegedly on Saturday because I dont think you need reminding that Wales won the 6 Nations on Saturday so whenever Patricks Day was it was greatly overshadowed. In the words of Al Pacino in scent of a woman, hoo-ah! Or wait was “hoo-ah!” the soldiers chant in Black Hawk Down? I forget.

Saturday, I can barely remember either, so very drunk I was! The bar which is notorious for the sporting Welsh was absolutely packed with all the nations. When Shane Williams scored the significant try, I was besides myself and everyone was going mad. Someone shook my shoulder, I turned around screaming, “Wooooo-” damn near got cut off by the lips of a (very sure of himself) Irish guy. I was so elated with the Rugby and so veeery drunk that I snogged (there is no other word for it than this, I’m afraid) the Irish fool back without a second thought. And the rest of the night is history. History of which I don’t really remember because I was very, very drunk. But of course nothing beyond PG.13, you know me, I have my reputation.

I’ve got to do a country review of Ireland soon, of course by this I mean Dublin, I was last there for my birthday with my Mobile Ethnic Brothel (we’re like the power puff girls!) ridiculous amount of fun, I assure you! I’m going to bed now, I will tell you about the House Idol fiasco later. Night!