I hate to even use the word “Saint” – such is my disgust with the papist brainwashing I was forced to endure in my youth – but the holiday for drunks approacheth, a holiday which seems particularly catholic, and so, I don’t know, all sorts of things just pop into my consciousness and I have to share. Like this video combining two things with which I have never had much luck … groups of people singing together (I’m a soloist, dammit, and, truth be told, I can’t hold a harmony to save my life) and cats (I’m a dog person, I JUST AM) …
… funny, right? I mean, it’s not the first time a man of the cloth has used choirboys to imitate pussy.
Oh my, that was foul. How do I face myself in the mirror? Much like this fellow:
I don’t suppose I’ll be going out for St. Patty’s day – why stop drinking alone just because it’s a holiday? I hate holidays. I hate wearing green. Lotta hate going on. I did see a clever Tweet from Bette Midler though about a St. P day I might consider celebrating. Look:
Bette Midler : I love St. Paddy’s Day as much as the next gal, but maybe we could also have a St. Patti’s Day to honor Ms. LaBelle and Ms. LuPone.
Now, yes. That I could get into. But, as it is, I’m not one for public vomiting – its doing or witnessing – so I stay in for this March bacchanal – and, as usual, ruminate. I wonder, though, might it not be a good time to act on the Catholic training of my youth and find some young men to
take advantage of mentor?
Some virgin somewhere is weeping right now.
Because I have strayed so far from all the guilt and fear with which I was indoctrinated . . . here’s the only kind of holy icon I’m much interested in worshipping right now . . .
Or, well, perhaps this . . .
Or. maybe a compromise, like this:
Or, an old classic favorite . . . it’s been a while since I’ve read Wuthering Heights . . .
But, then again, I have read it. Repeatedly. In fact, I blame it for much of my notions of what constitutes “romance” – so maybe I should try a classic I have never before sampled . . .
It’s always good to try new things. Maybe I should check out CraigsList and see if there are any reading groups covering Moby Dick this holiday weekend. Yeah. A person can only drink alone for so long before he starts making ill-advised connections. So, better run. Make wiser connections and THEN drink AFTER THE FACT! Ah, yes, you know me, always looking to expand my . . .