Happy St. Andrew's Day: Scotland Sucks!!

Cheeeeeers, Happy Friday, and more importantly, Happy St. Andrew’s Day to you all!!

What?  You didn’t realize that today is St. Andrew’s Day?

Hell yes my friends, and today, 5.2 million Scots already are, or will be, engaging in drunken celebrations in honor of St. Andrew, the patron Saint of Scotland.

Drunken, whorish, Scottish ladies sporting plaid skirts, white stockings, and no underwear, will spend the day and night being hunted down like sheep by drunken, whorish, Scottish men sporting plaid skirts, white stockings, and no underwear.

One might say that today is going to be Tartan-Palooza in the great country of Scotla----er…um…the great nation of Scot---…oh wow, um.

Scotland isn’t really a country is it?  Not a nation unto itself either really, it’s more like…let’s see…It’s like Canada, yeah that’s it…It’s like Canada!!

Well, no I guess not, ‘cause, I mean, c’mon…

Canada has its own currency…its own armed forces…its own Prime Minister.  Canada is even allowed to fly their own flag, field their own Olympic teams, and negotiate directly with other governments.

The Scottish government and her people?  What are they permitted to do on their own?  Not a damn thing other than beg for scraps from the table of the once mighty nation of Britain.  It’s sad, pathetic really.

Oh sure today, on St. Andrews Day, the Scots will sit around the pubs of Edinburgh and elsewhere, juiced up on warm ale and tales of the glory days that lie fossilized in their collective consciousness, and scream…

“Death to England.  Death to the Queen!!”, and then…

Saturday December 1st, like most other days for the Scots, they’ll wake up on their bathroom floor with a hangover, a skirt over their face, and incoherently mumble…

“We drank the country…er nation…er…whatever we are, dry last night; could somebody please call Prime Minister Cameron down in London and plead for a new allotment of ale?”

Yep, sad indeed.

On St. Andrews Day, every Scot parties, yells, and engages in Scottish braggadocio with the gusto, courage, and fire of William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, and then?

The next day when their collective eyes clear, their liver discharges, and drunken remembrances of their salad days have wilted and turned gray, their bluster and nationalism will sound more like Oliver Twist in all of his girlish, pre-pubescent voice asking dutifully of the Prime Minister…

“Please sir, may I have some more?”

When I think of these things, I say to myself…

“Braveheart is one of my favorite movies, but if it was based on today’s Scotland and her people, it would be called Gayheart.”

Scotland sucks, and you know what?

St. Andrew is too good for you guys.  You should adopt a new patron saint.

Perhaps…

St. Richard of Simmons, or…St. Mike McQueary, or…St. Cowardly Lion.

I truly want all of you Bobby Burns loving Scots to enjoy your day today, but man…

When you wake up tomorrow, while your alcohol induced hangover will recede over time, the hangover of knowing that you are not nearly as tough as even the Canadians will never leave your head, and knowing that fact is harder to swallow than a plate full of haggis.

Cheers!!
Matt-Man (A Descendent of the Free State of Ireland)
mattmaniws@ymail.com
@MattMan_IWS