The Best St. Patrick's Day Jokes 2019 Edition

They say write about what you know. I mostly write about drinking. Hell, half the time, I drink while I'm writing. So when a muse like St. Patrick's Day wanders along, you get to work. Which I what I did.

Is this stereotypical enough for everybody?

Plus, timely posts like these are a great way to generate cheap hits. Get ready to snort your Tullamores and shit yer knickers, it's time for...

The best St.Patrick's jokes for 2019

I’m chasing brain cells like St Patrick chasing snakes

I am not wearing green underwear, but they might be tonight after all this green beer. I mean, take your pick at this point; front or back

"Ugh, couldn't hold in that rum and Mountain Dew." (This is called foreshadowing.)

Any of you ladies need a drunken mistake? I’m available (8s and higher only please)

I’ve planned ahead and changed my Uber name to Drunk N Apologetic

Tonight, is my favorite night of boxing. There’s nothing on TV, I’m talking about all the Irish bars

Can someone please tell me what a “jarro” is and why there is whiskey in it?

8 AM every Wednesday morning in County Cork.

The good news: I found a place that is dead and the beer is good

The bad news: there is one drunken, boorish, loud, ugly asshole here that’s ruining it for everyone.

The reality: I am drinking by myself.

Dad?

Guys, a brief moment of silence for Lori Loughlin’s kids who won’t be celebrating St Patrick’s Day on campus this year.

Stupid celebrities doing stupid things for their stupid kids.

I have a blender, Lucky Charms, Jamison and ice and I am not afraid to use them.

This bar I’m at is pretty cool. They even have green beer and small paper cups in the bathroom. Harsh drink, but it’s minty enough to cover my breath. 6/10.

Amazon Prime needs some sort of “Drunken Purchase Protection” option because I will be lighting that shit up later on tonight.

My baby picture.

Does Grub Hub deliver to an Uber? Guess I’m gonna find out.

Whew! Finally broke the seal. I mean, as far as proper toilets go.

On a day of diminishing expectations, guys like me can really clean up.

Shit. I have vastly under rated fishing.

Bartender; what are you drinking?

Me; Floaters.

Any of you ladies need a lil’ Irish in ya? I’m available. (8 and higher only please. Twitter needs that filter)

Well, I guess it’ll be rum and Mountain Dew for me today. (Foreshadowing!)

So, apparently green lipstick is my new fetish. Which is so much easier than my old one of blonde Peruvians with Swahili accents who can play pirate shanties on harpsichords of ivory.  

I have too many leprechaun jokes to use here.

This means Lucky Charms are 50% off tomorrow, right?

Hey, can all you runners knock it off this weekend? (Yea, I know this technically isn’t a St Pat’s joke, but I have a real problem with these do gooders trying to be all healthy when I’m bent on self destruction.)

FFFFUUUCKKKKKK YOU

Googles nearest Tilted Kilt: 31 miles away. Twin Peaks: doesn't even come up. Sigh…Hooters; 21 miles away

No, really, leave the head thing on. I'm cool with it.

Me drinking green beer like

Strike one; wearing Notre Dame shirt (What’s the name of the leprechaun?)

Strike two; playing U2 (Name me anyone else in the band besides Bono)

Nope. Wrong guy, doesn't count.

Strike three; orders Ultra

Get that Ultra shit outta here!

I really appreciate me a girl who can look hot with green hair.

Anyone know where Connor McGregor is planning on getting arrested today?

I will never get drunk enough to appreciate Irish dancing, but I’m still not one to back down from a challenge.

"Oh, great, Irish dancing!" Said no non breeder EVER.

I don’t know what the differences are between “potatoes” and “Irish potatoes,”, but I imagine it’s much more fun to hang out with the Irish potatoes. I know that’s the deal with Irish coffee.

JC, I lost my keys an hour ago and I keep praying to St Patrick to find the damn thing…What’s that? He’s not the patron saint of lost shit? Well, who is it then? St. Francis!? Does he get a drinking holiday?

(Bet y’all didn’t see a St Francis joke coming today.)

Fireball + Jamison = Flamison. You're welcome world!

Soon.

Any of you ladies need some regrets from tonight? I am available. (7s and higher only please. It’s getting later and I’m lowering my standards too)

Heads up, because of leap year, next year, St. Patrick's falls on a Tuesday. So we need to come up with an excuse to get hammered on a Monday. I mean, a better excuse than the usuals.

Real World Superpowers I Wish I Had

"Still, Kev, the answer is no. The Captain does not date below General."

Look, I like super hero movies as much as the next guy. I don’t necessarily love them, nor do I feel the need to see every single one that comes out for FOMO. Just like everyone else, I enjoy fit and attractive people running around in cool costumes thwarting evil doers through massive plot holes. However, aren’t we kinda getting to the point where it’s all the same thing? How many times can a super hero “save” the world at the same time entire cities are destroyed and countless thousands of lives are lost? “Good news, Avengers! You saved the world! Again! However, you wiped out southern California.” Which, on second thought, sounds like a fair deal. What I don’t get is when these Meet Ups of super heroes like the Avengers and Justice League are established, why are any of these heroes working alone ever again? Like, if shit is going down, why can’t Batman call up Superman and be all “Yo Holmes, since we’re all cool now and we’ve established our moms have the same name, I got shit hitting the fan here in Gotham. Can you fly in, and we can fix this in 10 minutes?”

"No, no, I'm fine with you keeping the mask on."

I’m kinda bummed, because with every nerdgasm/nerd outrage that comes with every super hero movie, there never seems to be any love cast on a great little series called Kick Ass. Down to earth, real (my god, you mean these heroes actually get beaten up, bruised and hurt?) and really, really funny. Plus, Night Bitch is kinda my cosplay fantasy, IF I ever have to have one. 

Also, the cartoon version of the Tick? Hello? SPOON! Way better than those two shitty live action reboots that I had no interest in watching, so I am therefore blindly ascribing the “shitty” tag to.

With my timeline getting all blown up over a heroine I’ve never hear of named Captain Marvel (so I guess her and Captain America have the exact same rank in the super hero Army?), it got me to thinking, what if I had super powers? No, not the made up and hellacool super powers like flying, being invisible, shooting webs, looking good in a cape and able to run in heels. 

I am talking “super powers” that would help me out in real life. Super powers like:

Ability to actually make someone have a good day.  When I go to the liquor store, and I can tell the cashier has just been beaten down by all the belligerent, drunk asshole before me. How great would it be, if I could grant him a great day? Like, everything goes right for him the rest of the day. He goes to bed recalling all the good, and none of the negativity.

Conversely…

Ability to make someone have a shitty day. I am a vengeful super hero. With great power comes great responsibility and all. So, here’s to you, Mr. Asshole driver cutting everyone off, because of Super Kev, the rest of your day is gonna suck a big ol’ dick.

Ability to hit all green lights

Ability to iron. There are some heroes among us who actually possess this mystical super power, I do not. When I do travel, I have to use Craig’s List to pay someone to come to my room and ….iron. I fear one of these days it will backfire on me, and I will either get rolled or unwittingly get involved in a sex for hire situation. Like Robert Kraft.

Ability to repopulate the kitchen. Open the fridge, there is no food and a moldy bottle of OJ. Close the door. Open it again and -bang! ZOMG Little Caesar’s Pretzel Crust Pizza!

I do possess the ability to change beer to piss. I would like to have the ability to change piss back into beer. Oh, wait, that already exists; it’s called Coors Light. BURN!

Ability to read a woman’s mind. OK, now I know I’m really reaching for super powers here. I’ll settle for

The ability to mind meld with dogs. I would love to know what they think. They seem to have the whole live in the moment thing figured out. I would love to wire into Theory Pup 2.0s head and explain to him how lucky he is to be loved, doted on, provided for, fed, sheltered. I could have him walk himself, and also have him pick up a delicious soft pretzel crust pizza on the way back. And then I would tell him to stop being a raging dickhead with all the eating of furniture. Also, I would train dogs to undo bikinis

Ability to pick the fastest line. I currently possess the opposite power; the needless skill to pick the slowest line at everything; tolls, stores, lanes on the highway. There have been times when I’ve been next in a line, and STILL saw people behind me in other lines get through faster.

Ability to have the Browns win the Super Bowl. Hmm….let me look at that whole read women’s’ minds thing again.

Ability to actually smack some sense into people. I know, so obvious, yet so awesome right? I think we all have that one friend that clearly lacks common sense at times. They could use a swift reality check. And that comes in the form of a bitch slap. Like, a long, reaching back delivery, with a wide open, yet stiff hand, to slap about the jaw. Like, “Wake the fuck up, dude/dudette!”

Ability to no longer have hangovers. In researching this one, I reached out to my elders; you know, people over 40. And they all pretty told me you have about 30 good years before your body starts to betray you. There’s aches and pains where previously there were none. You pee 2-3 times a night. Vision and hearing start to decline. Also, your ability to recover from ANYTHING takes far longer. So, keep that in mind and plan for your lost day after a lost night.

What real world super powers would you like to have?

 DVD Bonus Material

This blog came about as an innocent joke took root:

I don’t know what Captain Marvel is, but I sure as f*ck am looking forward to this Halloween.

I know, solid joke, right? And yes, sometimes using ‘f*ck’ instead of ‘fuck’ just seems to be funnier, or at least make the joke more palatable for some folks. 

Anyway, it led me to thinking about what powers would I like to use in everyday life. And seeing as how Captain Marvel opened with $160 million in it’s first weekend (of which I am sure 90% of ticket buyers had no previous clue who CM is, but just saw a super hero looking cool running around and being all super hero-y), it lead me to strike while the iron is hot, and post a CM themed post.

Deleted scenes

Also, a solid joke that went unused:

Now, all these people -guys, mostly-want to know who would win in a fight; Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel?

The answer is Kleenex. Kleenex would win that fight.

And what's the deals with capes? When and why did they pretty much get to be mandatory wardrobe for almost every hero? What practicality do they serve? What other job necessitates a cape being worn? Are there accountants somewhere that wear capes to work? Nurses? Construction workers? Architects? If I'm a super hero, the last thing I want to do in my ass kickery is to tie a big ass sheet to my neck. How caped super heroes aren't always breaking their necks is beyond me.

True Story

One year for Halloween, I was already so disillusioned by super heroes, I went out as my own; Super Kev. I even had my mom make me a Super Kev shirt and cape. The logo was a simple white square with a black K in it. Looking back, I am pretty sure this is where my rebellious spirit and independent thinking started to take place. I'm sure my mom was kinda proud of me, too. I still have the costume, and writing this post lead me to drag the costume out. And guess what? It still fits. Maybe that's because my mom made it for me last year.

A Brutal Evaluation Part 2; The Reckoning

I’ve been looking at how I live my life lately, it’s a brutal evaluation. (See what I did there?) Are there things I do that are worth/not worth my time? The gist of part 1 was me trying to justify how I spend my free time, the reward I feel I get when I do certain things.  Today, for example, I already

went to the gym, walked the pup and GSD (got shit done) around the house, now I have some precious open time. A part of me really, really wants to be The Undertaker and beat the snot out of some jabroni in the Hell in A Cell. I feel there is reward and release in that for me today. Instead, here I am, laying out hours of my life, cracking jokes no one reads and baring my soul to just about nobody. I hope the sacrifice of me mindlessly playing videogames in favor of writing a blog will be a fair trade. The mystical “word faucet” seems to still be on, so might as well go with it. I’m pretty sure I’m like the Buddha, and 2000 years from now, my blog will make sense to people. Also, my belly is hanging out of my loosely fastened robe right now.

I have 4 bottle caps in my belly button.

Funny story how life can teach you lessons. Last night, I saw one of my favorite musicians. He is truly talented, writes sharp lyrics and is extremely funny. In a proper world, he would be famous. But here in the real world, he’s not. He bared his soul for over 90 minutes to a very receptive room of about 100 people or so. He travelled all day, hiked all his guitars up a flight of stairs. And maybe he wouldn’t admit it, but I am sure he would feel a lot better if he was playing a room of 500 or 1000 people instead of 100 or so. Then he packs all his stuff up, schleps it back to his hotel, gets some sleep and drives for hours to his next gig in a similar room. What he does is tough. So, it makes my infantile whining about “writing a blog nobody reads” pretty freaking insignificant. Fuck, if he can keep going on, I guess I can, too. It’s funny, because what typically happens when you follow a musician for an extended period of time, is that generally, “the early stuff” is the most revered. Everyone loves all those albums and songs from before the artist “broke” and finally had big hits. There is a certain freedom in basically writing whatever the fuck I want, and no one notices. Except for my few faithful readers who I am grateful for.

You know what. I’m drinking right now, so I raise a toast to you guys who read my stuff. Cheers, renegades!

GD it, I just spilled rum on my keyboard. Motherf*cker.

I will be the first to admit, I am a total dick when it comes to “my time.” When I do have free time, I get all haughty and defensive about how I spend it, and everyone else can just go pound sand. I will lay in the hammock as the unmowed grass starts to tickle my ass. I will read a book while I should be paying bills. I am a gremlin with my free time, and I am doing my best to be more efficient. Man, adulting can be mas difficulte.

As a public service to my readers, I will detail things I feel I have to change. Before, I do that, though, this bears repeating:

I AM FUCKING AWESOME AS I AM.

OK. I think we’re all together now. Maybe this post will entertain you. No, that’s a lie; we all know this self-torture entertains you sick mofos. We all love when artists torture themselves. You know how many great songs came about from a divorce? Anyway, maybe, you might learn a few things, or draw some inspiration from just one moron trying to be better. (Note to self; change blog byline to “just one moron trying to better.”)

Stare at My Phone Less. Yes, I have railed on this before, and I have been pretty successful in putting my phone down and leaving it there. For example, if I am going to watch TV, I am going to watch TV. Duh. I leave the phone on a different floor. (Yes, I have a house with more than one floor. Don’t be jealous.) I find I enjoy whatever I’m watching more. Like most people, my phone is my alarm clock. Previously, when the alarm would go off, I would swipe to FB or the web and immediately get enraged. Now, the alarm goes off, I shut it off, and immediately go give Theory Pup 2 bellyrubs. It’s an awesome way to start any morning and will only get better when I train him to give me bellyrubs in return. 

Truth, yo.

It boggles my mind when I watch hockey games, and they show the fans in the seats right behind the team. These are the most expensive seats in the place, and a majority of these dipshits have their heads buried in their phones. I get a take a pic or two, but then enjoy the experience. Same thing when I go to a show. I’ve grown to at least tolerate the behavior, as at least I can go to YouTube the next day and look at video if I want.

Watch Less TV. I’m finding it harder and harder to find good shows to watch. Yes, yes, I know every show on Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, etc is “fucking awesome.” I find I get jealous when I read married people with jobs and kids and bills and houses can still find the time to binge watch a season of whatever, and I struggle to find the time to watch the third episode of Black Mirror. (I hope it’s another pig-fucking one!) Look, there’s nothing wrong with watching TV, but one good thing about writing is at least there is something I am creating that I can leave behind. When that episode of The Handmaid’s Tale is over, it’s over. With writing at least, I can create something with that time and maybe have it entertain a few folks. Tangible. In a very real form, this is my art; words and a screen. And when I do it right, it gets a laugh. And yes, I just called my blog “art” because it is, so deal with it, unwashed commoners. 

What happens when I don't write blogs often enough.

Drunk Text Less. See above, but it has a lot to do with putting the phone away. Previously, all my West Coast friends would get blown up all night by obnoxious Drunk Kev. Now, I’ve gotten so much better at realizing I’m blotto and no one wants to deal with it. In fact, so far this year, I’ve only sent two dick pics to my grandma.

OK, that’s a lie. My grandma is dead.

So it’s whoever has her number now.

Better Handwriting. My god, does my actual handwriting blow. There are sometimes even I don’t know what the hell I wrote. It looks like chicken scratch. I mean, after the chicken gets his head cut off. I know this has nothing to do with how I spend my time, but it’s always bothered me. I’ve scribbled a bunch of great blog ideas that I’ve never been able to decipher. It’s history’s loss.

How this post looked originally. 

Read More. Maybe it’s just coincidence that I am watching TV less. I find myself enjoying a good book. As a failing writer, I try to put myself in the author’s head to see where they get their ideas and style from. Reading can be inspiring and encouraging. Again, look at the return on investment here; I can read and appreciate another’s work, but it takes me far less time and effort to read it than write something on my own.

Drink Less. I know, I know; I’ve said this before. Not that I think I have a problem. TBH, there are times when I can go weeks without a drink. Sometimes that conscious, sometimes it just organically shakes out that way. There are times when I know I just want one drink and I’m fine. There are other times when blood gets on my fangs, and you have to lock the friggin’ liquor cabinet. The sad fact is I can still pretty much drink like when I was younger, the cruel reality is I can’t recoup nearly as quick as I used to. Small steps, for sure. For beginners, I quit knocking back a small bottle of brandy every Wednesday morning, I think that entitles me to a chip of some sort. WHERE’S MY GD CHIP??

It seems all my favorite authors share two traits:

1) They read a lot

2) They drink a lot

1 

I like to read! I like to drink! Hell, sometimes I’m a real rebel and do both at the same time! I don’t have to be a mathematician to tell you I’m, like, ¾ of the way to being a real writer!

Well, came across this one too late.

Volunteer More. A very simple and rewarding thing to do. I didn’t realize how much I slacked on this, till I did my taxes. (Pro tip-you can write the mileage AND any meal you eat to or from -off!) (‘nother Pro-tip; don’t take accounting advice from me.) No matter how cold or dark my…uh…your heart can be, volunteering can make a world of difference. Now, that I’m thinking, it’s almost like volunteering to write blogs no one reads….

Spend More Time with Pup 2. Maybe it’s a walk, or some playtime, or trying to teach him commands. People are nowhere near as good as dogs are. Plus, dog blogs equal hits! Win win! In fact, I can’t write around him because he rocks those puppy dog eyes, and I melt. Thusly, every blog I write is time away from my dog, so you heartless jackals best be appreciating the shit out of my posts.

I feel like this is a pretty solid beginning. And I’m lazy, so this is a pretty solid ending as well. I’ll work on these for now; how much more perfect can I be? If I can stick to these, the posts should be more rewarding. And I’ll write more. And people will read more. And…..