My gift to St Patrick as a local snake on March 17, 2014

What assaulted all of me as soon as I bought an emerald green I shamrock NY tee on Canal for six bucks:

1) A possible arrest for impersonating an Irishman, leading me to think are you Gaza Irish or black Irish? as a thriller segue;

2) The cry "groupie!" emitted, at its regular daily time, unobstructed by the holiday, from my mother's and Elan Portnoy's contingent of would be religious Japanese impersonating all of Asia to convey the fact they want me a whore, to keep me from commonly owned property and gloat at the event of a false trial followed by a false arrest, resulting in my utter ruin. This is usually emitted multiple times during multiple days whichever personality they think I am inhabiting cafes, bookstores, supermarkets, subway platforms or wherever I am;

3) A Dutch Austrian Hapsburg (Catholic) with a Danish nose (Protestant) and a Headless Horseman (Jewish)  band member, Portnoy's old band on a Dutch Indie label, Chris Cush, also no love lost, with a face resembling King George the III as Barney, the magic dragon, as plausible a hip presence possible in the area because of purple. This an effort to take over the States honoring at Epsteinland, from Brian Epstein, the fifth Beatle, the Beatles' answer to the Stones' Brian Jones' picaresque adventure with a swimming pool;

4) A Cardinal Ruffo (catholic AND reactionary) face, crossed over into both Charlie Sheen and Richard the III, inherited by the Columbia Escobars, grimacing in pain;

5) A Berlusconi Provenzano, wishing me a vale of tears, even though no longer in Sicily, and still not ready to admit that all of Holland is actually Pharaonic, not Arab, working on transforming his upper delta St Thomas of Aquinas Ramses into a lower delta Augustine of Hippo queen through a Portuguese Santa Maria contact,  having kept his skill at organ extraction while the body is still warm, a protestant faith and the mass live burial of workers instead of paying them once the job is done;

6) A Court badge digit cop or two at Bowling Green trying to frame an orthodox Jew with a child's mitten, dropped after he passed me and my tee, by a team of shaded male adolescents symbolically representing an  Africa indignant at Jew! wearing New Orleans hot emerald green beads, with a shamrock dangling , trying their best to make room for me in this otherwise exclusionary society.

I dropped the duel wager token on the tracks at 14th, where a team of other NYPD collar insignia but court cop badge number female impersonators were accruing someone's stolen budget record for tax years 2010, 2012, and 2013 by holding the platform down waiting for death to come to me;

7) Wikipedia had me longing for their dragging Linneus into their definition of shamrock after they recovered the dead from boot hill to explore the connection between genetic alienations and four leaf clovers;

Another Nostradamus prophecy come to piss:
Pizzeria .28's waitress adds her name in a family face kind of way to the Fire Department ambulance loitering in front of Whole Foods Union Square, waiting for Samuel Beckett, the IRA's version of Godot.

8) A loose collection of Nazi confederate fascistotea party race case heads stalking their next door neighbor because they saw him get out of his car once, and felt him to be an explanation of reality in the US and follow him everywhere even Starbucks. After sitting at a small, wobbly table next to him, say in polite harassment: Shibboleth: what does that mean in Irish?

9) Tina Fey getting wind of this blog from The Third Man of third parties, saying hey this stuff is good. It'll never alienate me from the Kennedy Center!

10) One Irish' true contribution to American culture: not only wake parties, drunken states but shamrock as a Gaelic term happily born into English.