Just So You Know
The Irishman is dead. Sadly he fell off a cliff and died upon impact. Everything was done to save him but unfortunately assholes are often hard to resuscitate. This is a medical fact. Look it up.
Anyway, at first I was sad. Not only because he was dead but because we were supposed to go to Boston next month and the tickets were in his name. I almost asked his mom for them anyway but she was crying and blabbering on about the death of her son. Boy, some people can be really goddamned selfish!
Fuckers.
So I left. Funerals are for losers anyway. Plus I have this rule against purposely seeking out and dating the Irish... since I was at an Irish funeral, well you do the math. Not only did I have to be all elbows in order to get to the cooler full of beer there weren't even any prospects in site. What a waste.
