I Heart Ireland (And Ireland Hearts Me)

I’ve always blamed the Irish part of my bloodline with my being alcoholic, so that part of it I’ve sort of resented, even though I also inherited amazing hair and amazing eyes and a pretty thick schlong as a result as well, so that part I’ve always embraced and enjoyed.  And I’m a pretty great story-teller as well, with a vivid imagination and not much fear of saying anything if it makes a good tale, so I give my Irish credit for that as well.

But today, Ireland has made me proud enough that I may eventually move back to my roots.  Immigration sounds wonderful right now.  Because the people of Ireland have voted, and they’ve agreed, that gays should have the right to marry just like straights.  Which should be a no-brainer.  But unfortunately, here in America, we have lots of no-brain people who refuse to see the basic justice and fairness of the situation, and right now, I cannot get married to my boyfriend, legally, in the state where I was born and currently reside.  So we have to let the Supreme Court decide, because we are too stupid to think for ourselves.  Whereas, Ireland is intelligent enough to think for themselves.

I hereby now and forever screamingly embrace my Irish heritage and love Ireland with all my heart, even if I never step foot on their soil again.  But suddenly, I’m ready to go back and see the country again, because my previous visits were with tour groups, for a few days, and didn’t really have much to do with seeing Ireland so much as being able to tell people that you’d been there and were therefore somehow more worldly than they, which isn’t too hard to prove in Nowhere, Kentucky.

Now I just want to go back and just hug everyone I meet and say “thank you, even if you were one of the dicks who voted no”.

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