Just got home from my first St. Patrick’s Day party in 11 years. Drank a pint of Boddington’s Ale (which is actually British, but my friends put a whole bunch of McCormick’s green food dye in it so that makes it OK.) Ate too much corned beef and cabbage. Live chickens were running all over the property. And to top it all off, a family member head-butted me right in the teeth.
To sustain the theme of the week, I’m reading Skippy Dies, which I highly recommend. The author’s name is Paul Murray.