Happy belated St. Patrick’s Day from your favorite hobo babe!
I hope you all had a great weekend. Mine was chock full of drinking, screwing and fighting … well, maybe not fighting in the literal sense, but I spent Sunday pushing my way through a crowd of 850,000 of my closest friends/drinking buddies to witness the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade in South Boston. The parade in South Boston is the second largest in the country, and, in my opinion, the best. I mean, come on, is there a more Irish city in the U.S. than Boston? I think not. This year’s parade honoring Ireland’s patron saint was no exception.
I managed to secure a spot close to the sidelines to watch all of the action. I bopped along as a constant stream of pipe and drum corps, maching bands and assorted local crazies sauntered down the street. There were hot two-stepping cheerleaders, sexy-legged men in a rainbow of tartans, Boston firefighters with cigarettes dangling from their lips and festooned with green beads. I managed to score a few strands of beads myself, and, for the first time in my life, didn’t even have to flash the goods! Which was good, considering the temperature was a balmy 30 degrees, and to use the phrase “a tiddly bit nipply” would be quite the understatement.
The highlight of the parade for me? Waving at the marching league of Storm Troopers, complete with Darth Vader in tow. I swear, Boston has it ALL.
As I spent my afternoon pondering the meaning of life at the bottom of a pint of Guinness, I could only hope that many of you were doing the same. So, enjoy my pictures of the festivities. I wish some of you had been there partying with me, your favorite lush-iously sexy Irish lass.