Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Harp

I’m an Irishman. The Irish never forget.

Never.

We may come from a small island, but we have a massive memory. And we carry the biggest goddamned chips on our shoulders, so it’s a wonder we can lift our necks high enough to stick them out.

So - we never forget anyone. Not even our enemies. And we don’t want to forget them. We want to remember those bastards until they’re dead and then we’ll find a symbolic way to spit on their graves.

And that’s why we drink. We’re killing time until the sons-of-bitches die.