So, I’ve lost track of Murph. I turned my back for a moment, to lament the oncoming debauchery that is sure to come on the morrow, and he was already out the door and running.
For those of you that are somehow in the dark about this annual day of greatness that could only have been brought to us from the Irish – Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. And if you didn’t see this coming, then I don’t think we could be friends anymore. I mean his name is Murphy O’Murphy for chrissakes. He wears a shirt with a clover on it every day. And I do mean, everyday. It’s practically up in neon lights. My failing in this endeavor was to yet again underestimate his enthusiasm, and to have forgotten to pull out the restraints this morning.
So, as I wish you the best of luck on this coming day of green beer and Irish like revelry. If you happen to see my cohort, and I can’t stress this enough, steer clear. Keep at least a 10 feet away. People will get wet.
If you haven’t yet, check out the Watchtower. Episode 3 is now up, and as always, is great.
Here’s to you, and Here’s to me!
Jamie
