Make Mine Kelpy Green

Stepping away from the epicenter of the really big holiday unfolding here in Sitka this month, we have to insert a shout out to another high profile event:  The Drinking O’ TooMuch holiday:  St. Patrick’s Day.

riverdance chickees

yippee skippee! here comes the fleet!

Let me preface this little piece by telling you that the WSW is Irish by insemination only.  That said, there is only one logical direction to proceed, and that is down the path of depravity (or what some of us fondly refer to as just quartering into the homeward stretch.)

Here in Sitka, because of the steady influx of herring boys, our humble grog shops are unceasingly packed to the gills with thirsty fishermen, spunky women, curiousity seekers, ne’er-do-wells, and every other flavor of otherwise-unaffiliated description. 

Who sez ya can't put Lipstick on a pig?

Last call, my pretty

Having spent countless St. Paddy’s working both sides of the bar in nearly all of the finer local saloon-type establishments, I can assure you of two things that I know to be true:  First, the disproportionate amount of pure testosterone in conjunction with the promise of forthcoming makin’ o’ the green assures that the bells of St. BuyTheHouseaRound are clanging at regular intervals at every gin joint on the island.   In other words, much of the bell-ringers booze purchased for you on St. Patrick’s Day is seemingly gratis, but more accurately it is graft:  Think of it as a Ponzi scheme for your panties… 

Second, it turns out that you can put lipstick on a pig. I shit you not on this one, my friend, and here’s why:  The WSW’s catch and release boyfriend program works!  It’s a win-win proposition whereby some smarmy five-to-two’er named Dick Du Jour steps into your crosshairs moments after you’ve slammed your umpteenth Irish Car Bomb and readjusted the trusty ol’  beer goggles, whereupon ya find yourself on a oneway trip to the land of HoldStill,I’mTryingToCare.   

Now here’s the really good part:  The next morning, after you finish chewing somebody’s arm off, you tippee-toe into the galley and fix yourself that requisite Bloody Mary, embellished with a hearty splash of Dirty Sue

And. then. you. call. a. cab.  In some cultures that is referred to as a happy ending

Savvy babes always call a cab!

Savvy babes always call a cab!

*WSW Bonus*       

Babes that are seriously trolling for a prom-date on March 17 might also consider the benefits of a Guinness bath and hair conditioning treatment.   If you are sincerly aiming to impress that important someone, you might try whipping up a batch of these decadent cupcakes before you find out whether or not that is a shillelagh in his pocket…

* Thanks to for the riverdance babes



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5 responses to “Make Mine Kelpy Green

  1. You are so deliciously naughty.

  2. Pingback: BlogBites. Like sound bites. But without the sound. » Blog Archive » Think of it as a Ponzi scheme for your panties…

  3. Kristine

    Stop – stop! You’re killing me — if I keep laughing like this I may actually get some aeorbic benefits!
    Seriously, good work. The REAL Miz C is coming through!

  4. O My People, My People.

  5. Tanner

    Nice work, I’ll have to try the car bomb cupcakes right after I finish my Timothy Leary apple turnovers.

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