To celebrate driving the snakes out of Ireland, here’s a reprieve of M. and me at the Penang Snake Temple:

Other than that, never having been here in Cali on St. Patty’s Day, I’m veritably shivering with anticipation. The woman in the next cube and I both have on green shirts. I saw “Patrick” in the lunch rooom; he was wearing green too.

I wish I could be around Boston for some friends planning a pub crawl — They are likely crawling already, since it was starting during the day. Ah well, you move 3,000 miles and you are sure to miss a few parties.

If I know you, you’ve ever thought about a pancake breakfast in Southie, you have a name like Dot or Pat or Mike or Peggy or Gerry or Sully or Fitz or anyone’s ever called you Mc, Mick, Mac, Paddy, Patty, Greenhorn, Herring choker, drunk, Mackerel snapper, Harp, Bog-Trotter, Papist, Cat-lick, Leprechaun, Narrowback, Pogue, Shanty, Spudfucker, Spudnigger, Potato Head, Bog Wog, Donkey, FBI, Left footer, Mickey Finn, Plastic Paddy, Potato eater or Spud lover, Happy Saint Patrick’s to you!

Everyone else, pog mi hone.