Lets’ get one thing straight, here.
You can wear a leprechaun outfit on Sunday if you want to. It’s cheap and tacky and it marks you out as a complete fucking prat but that’s your problem.
You can go around shouting Begorrah and Bejayzus if you like. If you like stereotyped clichés then that is fine. It just shows that your knowledge of Ireland consists of one viewing of The Quiet Man.
But there is one thing that I cannot tolerate. It boils my piss like nothing else. It turns me from a placid tolerant human into a raving psychopathic killer.
IT IS NOT FUCKING PATTY’S DAY
You can call it St Patrick’s Day or you can call it Paddy’s Day. No skin off my nose.
But calling it Patty’s Day marks you indelibly as a brain dead twat with the intelligence of a deceased amoeba. You are telling the world that you know absolutely fuck all about Ireland and that your entire education has probably come from reading Twitter. It marks you out as being as Irish as Kim Jong Whatshisname of North Korea. You are a shallow festering pustule on the arse of the world. You deserve to drown in the sea of your own mediocre ignorance. You are a waste of oxygen.
In short, you are a total cunt.