Erin Go Bragh: A Saying that Has Nothing to Do With Undergarments...or Girls Named Erin

Ah, a long weekend lays behind us. One in which I did not maintain my commitment to write about St. Patrick's Day daily until the next Saturday. So sue me. I got busy (I do have a job, as hard as it is to imagine). But I'm back with more Irish pride and useless (and probably false facts to share with my Yankee friends (here Yankee means American, not northerner).

Erin Go Bragh is a phrase that you've probably heard a thousand times. Alright, maybe not a thousand, but three or four at least. But did you know (I sure didn't) that it doesn't have anything to do with Erin and her underwear? Nope, it's actually an Americanized version of a Gaelic (that's Irish speak) phrase that means...well about fourteen different things depending on who you ask. Mostly people say it means "Ireland Forever." But then they argue about what THAT means. Some say it means "Ireland will last forever", others say "I'm faithful to Ireland forever." Then there's the group that says English is too narrow to capture the real meaning of the phrase, suggesting it's actually close to, "Ireland until Judgement day" or even "Ireland the Brave." The point is there are lots of different interpretations, and none of them have anything to do with Victoria and her secret.

It's a cool phrase you have to admit. It sounds good rolling off the tongue, it looks good in a stylized font on a flag, or a tattoo. And mostly it makes you sound smart, which we know is a motivating factor for most things that people do. So, when you're three hours deep in your St. Patrick's Day celebration and you're ready to make a move on the cute redhead in the corner, hit her up with a little "Erin Go Bragh!" and she'll think you actually have a clue what you're talking about. Won't she be surprised on your second date?

Party List the Third: Necessities for a successful St. Patrick's Day

3. Traditional Irish Food. -- I knew we'd get there eventually and I've put a lot of research into this looking for the perfect dishes to recommend. Color me surprised when I found out that the perfect entree for your St. Patrick's Day party is an American favorite as well. That's right ladies and gentlemen, the Irish have been enjoying Buffalo Wings for centuries, and this Saturday you should too! For alternatives to Buffalo Wings (something for the ladies) try a fresh slice of Domino's Pizza (Domino's comes from the Gaelic, Dominagh). As an added bonus you can now order your Buffalo Wings from Domino's and save time and money, while honoring your Irish heritage. It truly is a wonderful world we live in.

Coming soon -- Does Aquamarine Count as Green?: How Not to Get Pinched, and Why the Hell They're Doing It in the First Place

Luck of the Pale: The Double Edged Sword of Being Irish

The Irish are pale, there's no two ways about it. Even those of us with dark hair and eyes (we're called Black Irish 'cause we've got rhythm) still burn pretty easily unless our bloodline has been mixed over the years with other (more tannable) peoples. Sucks to be us right? Not so much. Think about it, if you are genetically pre-disposed to sunburn doesn't that give you a built in excuse to sit in the shade while your compadres toil in the sun? Isn't a great excuse when the wife says you need to take the dog for a walk but you'd rather play another ten minutes of that new video game? I might have given myself away on that one a little bit.

The Original Irish Brawlers

Last night, Mrs. Rogue and I went to see a midnight showing of "300" the new film from Zach Snyder based on Frank Miller's graphic novel of the same name. It tells the story of King Leonidas and his Spartans as 300 of them stood against the mighty army of the Persian empire in defense of Sparta (and greater Greece). It's a well known historical story, and the film (while definitely taking liberties with history) is AWESOME! What you probably don't know (and the film fails to mention) is that Leonidas and his Spartan warriors were actually Irish. True story. Sure, the lived literally hundreds of years before the country (and people) we know as Ireland formulated. Sure, St. Patrick (and Christianity) didn't exist yet. But let's look at the facts. These Spartans were short (everybody was back then), they were known as brawlers (and good ones) and, as shown in the film, they enjoyed their wine and women thoroughly. Tough guys with hearts of gold that's the best way to describe the Spartans as presented in "300," and it's not a bad way to describe the Irish either. I've had no luck however finding any conclusive proof that the Battle of Thermopylae took place on St. Patrick's Day, but the Greeks did eventually drive the Persians into the sea (just like St. Pat drove the snakes into the sea, eerie).

Patty's Day Party List Part 2 (I love alliteration)

2. Booze -- Can you celebrate St. Patrick's day while staying stone cold sober? I don't even understand the previous question. It's like asking "Can I use the Internet if I want to avoid computers, electrical outlets and and wireless devices?" Umm, not in this Universe. Alright, maybe my position on this one is a little tough. I'll leave you some wiggle room, feel free to drink tea while you're at my St. Patty's Day party, but when I slap you on the back and say, "This is vun, I'm havering the bestesest time. Hav're yo doin'?" You better reply, "Terrivic!" followed by an unintelligible holler. We've got appearances to keep up here.

By Dawn's Early Light: What Old Age Does to the All-Nighter

Richard (my hetero-lifemate and bestest friend, no offense Amanda) was in town this weekend with his wife which led to three things: most of the beer in the greater Lincoln Parish area was consumed, friends that I haven't seen in several months (in some cases years) showed up to visit with them (and us, theoretically), and we (Ella, Richard, me and the guests) slept very little.

My college days are far behind me (when you've only lived 25 years, the two and a half years that stand between you and graduation are a long time), and while I'm still a "wild and crazy guy" (I am the Drunken Rogue after all) my all-nighters are few and far between. I'll hit the highlights for you between an all-nighter at 21 and an all-nighter at 25.

5. The "All-Nighter" doesn't end with vomit and unconsciousness. -- At 21 you're guzzling the adult beverages at a pace that simply cannot be maintained. This generally results in most of the people at the party ending their evening (or early morning as it were) with their heads in the toilet. At 25 the beer is not only used for it's intoxicating effects but also 'cause it tastes so darn good. Sure you get drunk, but it's at four thirty or five A.M. just as things are winding down. No vomit is a good thing.

4. The thing pushing you through those last few hours is significantly less sexy. -- At 21 when the yawns start to sink in at 3am you keep partying because the redhead is giving you the eye, and you're sure with a couple more hours of drinks and flirtation, it could be your lucky night...morning...whatever. At 25 you think seriously about going to bed at 3, but then decide against it, because you are only two hours away from McDonald's Breakfast. Hmmmm, sausage McBiscuit!

3. The "Walk of Shame" takes on a whole new meaning. -- No longer are you ashamed because of your bed partner (I did marry her after all) but now the end of an all-nighter is accompanied by the shocking realization that it is embarrassing to stand around with your friends the next morning knowing you smell like a pirate.

2. That "fall anywhere" attitude is replaced with a...more conservative approach. -- Sure the 21 year old is happy to party 'till sunrise because he knows that when sleep finally does catch him, he'll enjoy it just as much on the floor of the bathroom, or curled up into that lawn chair as in his own bed. The 25 year old is still willing to make comfort sacrifices for the sake of the party, but also knows that his back will be screaming at him for sleeping on the pull-out sofa for at least a week.

1. The clean-up crew for the all-nighter is significantly larger. -- At 21 clean up crew consists of the people who live in the house, who don't have to be at work the next day, and couldn't think of some excuse. This is generally a very small number (often as small as .00001% of the party's attendees). At 25 the party is generally not over until the party goers have at least loaded all the empty bottles and plastic plates and cups into the trash can. You might even be lucky enough to get some help loading the dishwasher. 21 year old's come running for a keg, but run screaming from a vacuum.

And there's one thing that definitely hasn't changed from those 21 year old all-nighters:

At 5 am there is nothing more fun than going someplace where you're not supposed to be, at 21 it was driving around stealing road signs (no STOP signs, I promise) at 25 it's the local (and very rural) airport to climb the beacon tower. The good news is in the those four years it has become apparent that you should always have a designated driver. Woohoo for safety!

Sure, it was long, a little painful and ridiculously exhausting, but it was also about the most fun thing I've done in years. Christmas is right around the corner folks, and the Drunken Rogue is feeling pretty freakin' jolly.

Merry Christmas from Corporate: The Office Christmas Party

As long as there has been Christmas and corporations there have been office Christmas parties. The first official office Christmas parties were held by members of the Roman army shortly after Constantine accepted Christianity and therefore made Rome a Christian nation. These guys were willing to follow their Emperor into a new religion, but they had lived their whole lives as pagans, they were not about to forget the fun they had had during the festival of the Sun (Winter Solstice for those not in the know). So Constantine (being the slick mover and shaker he was) decreed that the official celebration of our Savior's birth would just happen to coincide with the old tradition of the festival of the Sun. This pleased the Roman soldiers greatly. They could get loaded on mead and wine, hit on the cute girls from the stone chiseling office and still feel like they were good Christians since they were doing it all in the name of Christmas (Nobody said that the Romans made GOOD Christians).

The next heyday for office Christmas parties was during England's Imperial period. Companies like the East India Trading Company ruled England with money and they were quickly buying up the entire undeveloped world. They also threw a hell of an office party. While their Hallow's Eve party was quickly discontinued (due to fear of burning for practice of witchcraft), their Christmas parties are recalled in such classic literary works as "Bombed Out of Thy Mind" by the hero of Jamestown, John Smith, and "Rendevous with the Secretary 'Neath the Mistletoe" by the explorer Sir Francis Drake. It's a little difficult to cut through the middle English and get to the really juicy parts, but if you dig Shakespeare and keg stands these books are for you.

The office Christmas party has continued as a hallowed (and horrible) tradition until this very day. Last night the popular NBC program "The Office" (aptly titled don't you think?) had it's second "Christmas party episode" in three seasons. If you've never been to an office Christmas party (which probably means you don't have a job, you slacker!), then this show would have served as an adequate primer in what you can expect to find at one. Alcoholic drinks, finger foods, cheesy decorations, people who drink too much, people who do not drink enough, awkward flirtation between one of the male employees and one of the female employees, and likely somebody will cry. Maybe they'll cry because they've had too much to drink. Maybe they'll cry because they've just been dumped and it's sad to be alone on the holidays. Maybe, they'll cry because they've just been fired for xeroxing their butt. All of these are acceptable (and quite possible) reasons to cry.

I will be attending my own office Christmas party tonight. It is likely to be my last Christmas party at this particular job (Mrs. Rogue is graduating and we're planning a move, remember?). Since I'm married (and they're are only two girls below forty that work at the station anyway) it is highly unlikely that I (or anyone else for that matter) will get into the awkward flirting. There will be real food (we're traveling to a nice restaurant instead of bringing finger foods) so someone is likely to significantly overeat. It's also very likely that someone will get too drunk and make a fool of themselves. I've got my fingers crossed that's not me, although if I was going to do it, this year would be the time to do it. I AM on my way out anyway.

For those of you that are not lazy slackers, I hope you enjoy your office Christmas party. Drink, but don't drink too much. Flirt, but don't be weird about it. And no matter what your friends tell you, it is not a good idea to xerox your butt. Don't ask me how I know, but butt prints are just as identifiable as fingerprints. And besides, that glass top on the xerox machine will NOT hold very much weight. Merry Christmas, from me and mine to you and yours.