Erin Go Bragh
land of quo
evolution through comic malaise
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Will you be drinking green beer today?
Probably not. I go more for the Guinness or the Irish whisky. I might have a couple of those if the spirit takes me. Otherwise, I’ll just have to be satisfied with all that Irish blood running through me from my ancestry…mixed in with equal portions of German, Welsh, and English, of course.
I am Irish, Italian, German, and Bohemian. But today, I will go bra-less in honor of my pickled ancestors.
I will too, then. Erin Go Bragh-less.
You must have large bitch titties.
I have large bitch titties compared to an ironing board. Otherwise, I would say they are just your normal male bitch titties. Do they have to meet a minimum size to go bragh-less?
If you squeeze them together, and have cleavage, then yes.
You’re just trying to get people to look at me funny. Or is it better to try that squeeze test when I’m by myself?
I would do it for you myself, but I am not always gentle.
That would be an interesting injury to explain to the doctor. Though I’m sure he gets his share on St. Paddy’s day.
On second thought, I could never hurt a fly let alone someone as cool as you are.
You just changed your tune to keep me from calling the cops for breaking my boobs. I know how you chest-squeezers are.
Honk Honk.
If my mouth could be anything but a straight line, it would be a big smile right now.
I made you smile. This calls for a pint of green beer.
Cheers.
Fuck you, I’m Irish!
I believe that is almost a literal translation.