Just Carl

In light of St. Patrick’s day, here’s a list of information that will hopefully help you come to terms with, and then avoid, the American bastardisation of Irish culture. Spread the word!

It’s called St. Patrick’s Day. “Paddy’s Day” if you’re familiar with him. Not “Green Day”, “Shamrock Day”, “Irish Day”, and more-so than anything, it is not “Patty’s Day”. Calling it so makes you a moron, and no more.

Gaelic is not a language. Never was, isn’t, and never will be. We speak English or Irish. Not Gaelic.

Ireland is in IRELAND. Not in Britain, not in the UK, not in England. Ireland is an island called IRELAND. 

Russia, Portugal, South Korea and Czech Republic are four of the fourteen countries that consume more alcohol than we do, per capita.*

Dropkick Murphys are not Irish. Liking them does not make you Irish. We never heard of them until tourists kept telling us how they’re their favourite “Irish” band.

Lived in America your whole life? Claim to be Irish? Yeah you’re probably not. It is next to impossible to travel through America and not have people tell you they’re Irish. “Oh really, let me see your Irish passport then”… “Oh no, my dad has red hair, you see”. NO! Just no. That is not how things work.

Just because you have a great great grandfather whose cousin had a dog who caught fleas off a rat that came over on an Irish boat all those years ago, that does not entitle you to say you’re “Irish”. We’ll let you away with it if a parent is genuinely Irish, and will tolerate the odd grandparent. After that… no!

The University of Notre Dame is racist. End of.

You, along with every American actor who has tried, cannot do an Irish accent. And if your name is Tom Cruise, this applies to you even more.

I have never met an Irish person who puts Guinness in stew. That is a thing we have kept in order to laugh at American tourists.

Ireland and Scotland are not the same. We’re not as fat as them.

We’re not a religious people anymore. As Dara Ó’ Briain says; "I don’t believe in god, I don’t go to church, I don’t pray, but y’know… I’m still Catholic".

As a tourist here in Ireland, wearing green pants does not make you “one of us” or “fit in” at all. You will notice this when you open your eyes and see that nobody else is wearing green pants.

We are not all related and we don’t all live on the same street. Asking if we’re related to Bono or friends with him (or any Irish person, for that matter) will result in scorn. Lots of scorn.

Leprechauns did exist. We over-worked them as slaves and they are now, as a result, extinct.

We do actually eat a lot of potatoes. You can have that one.

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I've been following lexiplaysviolin on here for as long as I've had a tumblr (or for as long as I remember) and it's been exciting just watching her take so many steps towards genuine success. Can't imagine how great it must feel to be part of it. 

Wonderful violinist, cool band, great song. 

“If one day I’m all black I’m still a model. If one day I’m all white I’m still a model. I am not my skin. I am a model with a skin condition.

"I get comments saying that I’m a leper, I control how my skin changes, I bleach my skin, my skin’s burned. None of those are true. The world is looking at me now. I either let the haters affect me or I step my money up. When I stand back from all the hate and I check my bank account… Hahahahaha.”

Chantelle Winnie is a model in demand: her army of fans includes artists, designers and photographers. She told Eve Barlow about her journey from a schoolgirl bullied about her vitiligo to runway queen and took some exclusive pictures for the Observer.

Well, this seems innocent enough. Also, it’s nice to know it’s written by a “Bill”. Something about “Bill” screams “I know what women need and want”.

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Chapters seem pretty legit too. (*Spoiler Alert*, “unclean spirits” = dishes. I read ahead.)

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Ah, now here’s a chapter I can wrap my head around. “Dating is defrauding”. What kind of woman needs to meet new people and decide who is right for her, when she can dive right in with the first man she meets and offer herself to him in the name of God! Oh, but first make sure her Dad is OK with it. Heaven knows her dad will know immediately if you’re worthy of nailing her. Women, isn’t it great to not have to make these difficult decisions yourself? Boy, women sure are lucky to have things so easy.

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Here’s where it gets tricky. Men, you know that secretary you most-definitely-have-without-exception-and-is-of-course-a-woman? Well your wife is obviously going to be jealous of her, since she obviously can’t look as good as her while she cooks, cleans, and prays all day at home. 

So give your little sweetheart a false sense of control and pretend she has a say in who you hire to be better than her in every way.

Also, watch out for secretary. She’s obviously a slut.

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God knows how women think. Women don’t. So make sure you remember to disregard everything they say, because God knows they’re far too emotional to be taken seriously.

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Women are gullible fools. This isn’t said to be mean, just to remind you that women are gullible fools.

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But wait, there’s more! When your wife fails you in her tasks (which she regularly will, poor soul), there’s one sure-fire way to make up for her inadequacy!

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This public service announcement (from 2010) is brought to you by men living in 1937.