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I didn't get the day off...
There have been many shameful moments in Ireland's past. But there is no more a shameful an image of the Emerald Isle than a flatbed truck on March 17 pumping out Danny Boy, populated by stout-clutching inebriates wearing foam Guinness hats and shamrock deely boppers.
Wearin' my green, of course.
My father, not so Irish himself, swears it's shanty Irish, not lace curtain Irish, that I come from. Whatever the faults, they ain't his doin' or so he says! :P (All horse thieves and ne'er-do-wells on his side.)
Everybody sing . . . !