National un-nationalism is on the rise today, as people across the country dig that ratty green shirt out of the backs of their closets, don excessive amounts of face paint, and confess to those closest to them that they think that they’re, like, at LEAST fifty percent Irish. This omnipresent pseudo-nationalism has even seeped into the truest of all American pastimes: excessive consumption. Shamrock sludge, potatoes, cheap ice cream, and pint upon pint of beer, are all being ingested in shades of peppermint considered sketchy any other day of the year. Not even nature is immune from this takeover, as it was noted today that the shriveled, rough grass that has become a staple in Greenville over the last six months has turned some strange vivid green -almost life like- hue, practically overnight.
Many people have been praying today for a modern Saint Patrick to come back and rid the United States of something even more venomous and vile than even snakes: Donald Trump. However, some experts have pointed out that there might not have even been snakes in Ireland to be banished in the first place, so the luck of the Irish might not be able to help on this one.
Trump, meanwhile, is reportedly having a field day, and not just because it reminds him of the good old days of minority marginalization, when you just needed a “No Irish Need Apply” sign to keep those bumbling drunks from stealing hard working American`s jobs. In the spirit of American integrity, he stated that “I have people, smart people, paying attention to all this heritage talk. Once we know the truth, we can weed out the phonies from the real Americans!”
On this day of unsteady heritage and questionable cuisine, one thing’s for sure, however…In the harsh light of tomorrow, when the streets are covered by what could only be the glittery innards of that guy from the Lucky Charms box, we can all be thankful for the fact that nobody has to listen to that same *redacted* river dance song for another whole year.